


Two Is More Than Half Pt 1

by Shire55



Category: P/C - Fandom, Star Trek: The Next Generation, h/c - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-21
Updated: 2012-07-21
Packaged: 2017-11-10 09:46:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 67,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/464915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shire55/pseuds/Shire55
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Enterprise is sent to answer a call for help. What they discover will rock Picard and Crusher to their cores.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Is More Than Half Pt 1

Two Is More Than Half.  
It was early December, 2304 and Yvette Picard was enjoying the slatted sunlight that beamed in through the blinds of the kitchen windows, further warming the room, banishing the cold from outside. Her daily chores had been done, lunch was simmering on the stove and her husband would be coming in soon to join her for their midday meal.  
Their first born, five year old son, Robert was at kindergarten and seeing as Yvette and her husband, Maurice had been trying to fall pregnant again, their nights had been a little...energetic over the past month or so. She smiled smugly. Her husband had a well-earned reputation for being taciturn and austere, but she knew he possessed a deeply passionate and gentle side to him that she alone ever saw. He loved her and she knew it.  
Placing her hand over her lower belly, she looked down and sighed wistfully.  
“I wonder?” She murmured.   
If Maurice would only let her have a scanner. Shrugging, she shook her head. The plain fact was she went along with her husband only because she was at heart a peace maker. If she really wanted a scanner, he would of course make the necessary moves to obtain one, but he’d be disappointed. Not in her, but in the fact that they’d eschewed the ‘traditional’ way of doing things.  
“Let nature take its course.” Was his catchphrase. Yvette sighed and let her head fall gently back onto the padded backrest of her favourite chair. With the warmth of the room and the comforting aromas of the simmering food, Yvette’s eyes began to droop. Moments later she was asleep. She was not aware of the being that coalesced out of the air before her. There was no sound, nothing to disturb her. Its gender wasn’t immediately obvious, but it was humanoid. Raising a slender hand on a long clothed arm, it deployed a device of some kind which began to glow. A pale blue, opaque light appeared in front of her face that sent her into a much deeper sleep. Under the direction of the being, the light moved down her body and merged through her clothing until it rested on the skin just above and to the left of her mons. It glowed brighter and, had she not been so deeply asleep, would have felt a quick burst of heat. Within a few seconds the cloudy light dimmed, rose above the sleeping woman and retreated back into the device. The alien being tilted its head and smiled kindly, offering a reverent bow before fading silently away, leaving no trace of its visit.  
Ten minutes later it took a few firm shakes of her shoulder for Maurice to wake his wife and she blinked owlishly, looking around in confusion. Frowning; the tall man asked gently, “Are you all right, my dear?”  
Yvette smiled up at her husband, a little flustered. “Yes, I’m fine...I just dozed off.”  
He grunted softly. “You weren’t dozing, Yvette, my dear, you were sound asleep.”  
Raising her eyebrows, Yvette got to her feet and began to bustle about the kitchen, serving their lunch, but inside her mind she thought, “How odd.”  
They found out two weeks later that she was pregnant and, true to form, they refused to know the gender. All they knew was that the single developing embryo was normal and healthy. Of course what they didn’t know then and never would was that originally there had been two embryos. Identical twin boys. Now there was only one.

 

Captain Jean-Luc Picard lay quietly in bed, spooned with his wife, her back pressed against him. He’d been awake since they’d made love in an effort to comfort each other, his arm over Beverly’s body, his hand resting over her lower belly, though not intentionally, but telling in its own way. That very afternoon had brought yet another failure. He’d thought Beverly asleep, it had been some time since their lovemaking and she seemed totally relaxed, her breathing slow and rhythmic, but somehow he wasn’t surprised when she said softly,  
“I’m so sorry, Jean-Luc.”  
He tightened his arm and gently placed his forehead against the back of her head. “There’s no need for you to apologise, Beverly, it’s no one’s fault.”  
She began to turn over making him lift his arm. Once she’d settled, Jean-Luc kissed her forehead, whispering. “We should both be sleeping. The preparations for the mission are taxing both of us...you more than me.”  
Sighing deeply, Jean-Luc could see Beverly’s sadness even in the darkness of the bedroom. “It should’ve worked, Jean-Luc. I know we’ve had no success the natural way, but there should’ve been no problem doing it artificially.” She sighed again and her voice began to tremble. “It’s a known, proven technology; dammit it’s used all the time, has been for over a century! Why won’t it work for us? Why did it fail...again?!”  
Gently rubbing his hand up and down Beverly’s bare back, he closed his eyes against their shared pain and sighed, willing his voice to stay steady. “Perhaps it’s just not meant to be.”  
Angry now, Beverly gripped his shoulder. “No! I will not, I cannot accept that! This is the 24th century, Jean-Luc, and humankind, in fact most humanoid species have been able to successfully assist in fertility and reproductive difficulties for nearly two hundred years. You and I are both fertile! There should be absolutely no reason why we can’t conceive successfully, either naturally, or in vitro.” She sat up then, drawing up her knees and wrapping her arms around her legs, her head resting on her knees. Jean-Luc sat up too, putting one arm around her trembling shoulders. He gently tilted his head until they met.  
“How many times, Jean-Luc? How many babies have we lost? How many of my ova have been taken and matured? Healthy, robust eggs and your sperm, motile, plentiful and strong! Why won’t it work? Why does the cell division stop?! What’s wrong with us?! Why can’t they find out what’s going wrong?”   
The tears started then, tears of frustration and sorrow. Jean-Luc had no answers to his wife’s anguished questions, God, he’d been silently asking the same things himself. He knew it had to stop, it was just causing too much pain. Every time they tried, their hopes went up and with each and every failure came the crushing disappointment, then the depression and despair and he knew he was mostly responsible for the entire situation. There was no doubt Beverly wanted to have children with him, but it was her knowledge of his underlying, although tacit yearning to perpetuate his lineage that was driving her well beyond the time when they should’ve given up.  
At first, because of their respective ages, Beverly had been given hormone treatments to reverse menopause and it had been totally successful. She began to ovulate normally and established a regular menstrual cycle. Jean-Luc required little by way of augmenting his fertility. Because of his artificial heart he’d not used a contraceptive implant since his youth and apart from a few doses of testosterone, mainly to encourage more sperm production than normal, everything seemed fine. Indeed, the first conception occurred quite quickly. Beverly lost it within a day. Nine subsequent failures followed. The cells would not continue to divide past the sixth division.  
They were disappointed not to be able to achieve a successful pregnancy naturally, but still wanting a child, they tried harvesting. As soon as conception occurred, the zygote was removed to gestate artificially, but the same thing happened. Within a few hours, cell division ceased and the zygote failed. That happened twelve times. As a last resort, having been given drugs to mature many ovum; they were harvested and Jean-Luc’s sperm was introduced in vitro. Unfortunately doing it that way afforded both Beverly and Jean-Luc the opportunity of seeing the failures take place before their eyes. It was devastating. Soul destroying. And Jean-Luc had had enough. He just couldn’t take it any more. Not just the inability to conceive successfully, but what the failures were doing to his beloved Beverly. Nothing was worth that.  
Beverly’s tears had slowed, allowing Jean-Luc to say very gently, “No more, my love, no more. Let it go, we have each other, that will always be enough for me.”  
Beverly began to quietly cry again and this time Jean-Luc couldn’t hold back his own tears. It would take time, but eventually they would come to terms with their situation. He could only hope the scars that were left didn’t torture them too long.

 

A little while later they were once again lying in each other’s arms, gently caressing one another, using their love to console. Beverly had been happily surprised when they’d first become intimate to find that Jean-Luc was not only able to have sex two or three times in succession, but that if he so chose, he didn’t even lose his erection. And then there was his size. Well above average. Not huge, but impressive.  
She was gently stroking his thick length, his foreskin sliding effortlessly up and down, his soft moans and reciprocating caresses and skilful manipulation of her clit making her sigh often and deeply. What they were doing was deliberately slothful. They both knew it would end in sex, but each was so attuned to the other that they enjoyed the connection, both physical and emotional, especially now as they comforted each other. Lost in a haze of pleasure, Jean-Luc was quite surprised when Beverly whispered,   
“Tell me about your first time.”  
“Hmm.” He moaned softly and sensuously. “Why?” The word came out in a sigh. He closed his eyes as Beverly gently pulled his foreskin back and teased the frenulum. “Oh...” He groaned softly. He knew she was distracting herself intellectually, trying to put aside their incessant sorrow.  
“Because...” It was Beverly’s turn to gasp as Jean-Luc pushed two thick fingers inside her. Clenching her jaw and concentrating, she managed, “Because you’ve never told me.”  
“Hmm,” He hummed again, then asked breathlessly, “Are you sure, Beverly?”  
“Yes...” She sighed. “And Jean-Luc, I want you to talk rough; talk like Jack used to. I want to think of something else, something so far removed from...”  
She sighed deeply. “Take me back, Jean-Luc, take me back in time.”  
He sighed, closing his eyes in pain. He wasn’t sure it was a good idea, but as with most things, he could deny her nothing. If she needed this he would do it and do it as she wanted it done.  
“Well,” He said cautiously, then suddenly gasped. “You never asked.” He said in a long breathy sigh of pleasure.  
Opening her eyes, she smiled as their eyes met. Despite their slowly growing arousal, there was amusement.  
“Okay, I’m asking now.”  
To accentuate her statement, Beverly slid her fingers over the head of his penis, spreading the precome and playing with the urethral opening. Again, Jean-Luc’s eyes slitted and he hummed with sensual pleasure. Beverly smiled wickedly, that was until Jean-Luc curled his fingers inside her and gently swiped his thumb over her clit.  
“Ah!” She exclaimed breathily. “Oh...so good...”  
He nuzzled under her ear, murmuring, “I adore seeing you like this, Beverly. You’re entire body is like an exquisite instrument, every part of you is erogenous and responds so beautifully to my touch.”  
“Hmm.” She sighed, then opened her eyes. “Tell me. Please Jean-Luc...give me something else to think about...even for just a little while.”  
Maintaining his caresses, he sighed and Beverly saw something she had trouble identifying in his eyes. It was with some concern that she finally realised she was seeing regret. Immediately contrite, she said softly, “It’s okay, Jean-Luc, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”  
He smiled tenderly, then gasped as Beverly ran her fingernail from the frenulum to the base of his penis then back up. “No, it’s all right, I don’t mind, but if I do, will you tell me about your first time?”  
“Yes...Oh! Do that again!....yes...” Beverly’s hips thrust forward involuntarily and Jean-Luc’s gaze intensified. When he said nothing, Beverly refocused her attention. “Well?”  
Sighing, Jean-Luc summoned a rueful smile. “You can be very single minded when you want to be, Beverly, my love.”  
“Mmm...but you know that, Jean-Luc...you’ve always known that...Oh...!”  
“Very well. I was just short of my seventeenth birthday and I’d been studying non-stop for my Academy entrance exams, but in the back of my mind was the fact that I was still a virgin. That’s not to say I hadn’t had any sexual experiences, I had, but I’d not actually had penetrative sex.”  
He had to stop, what Beverly was doing to his penis was just too distracting. She realised what was happening and eased her caress. He opened his eyes and snorted softly, “You really are a tease, Beverly.”  
She was going to grin when he added another finger inside her and his thumb slid over her clit, making her breath hiss through her teeth. Somehow she managed, “You know that too.”  
“Hmm.”  
“Go on.”  
“What? Oh...um...”  
“Why hadn’t you had sex?”  
“Oh...my size...oh, fuck that’s good...”  
His use of coarse language sent a spike of excitement through Beverly. He rarely used profanity, especially during lovemaking and it was the tantalising sound of the coarse language coming from such an urbane and cultured man that made it so erotic for Beverly. She eased off again, allowing Jean-Luc to get his mind back on track.   
“The few times I’d got all hot and sweaty with a girl, once they saw my erect cock, they hesitated and it was bloody frustrating. I wasn’t going to talk them into doing something they didn’t want to do, but really, there was no need to be so...virginal. Jesus, I wasn’t going to hurt them. A couple of girls jacked me off and one was willing to suck the head while she jacked me, but none of them would let me fuck them.”  
“You must have done a lot of masturbating.”  
“Hmm, yes, yes I did.”  
“So?”  
“I really didn’t want to enter the Academy a virgin. I mean it was bad enough I’d been brought up in a ‘traditional’ household in a rural part of France. I suppose I wanted to appear at least sexually sophisticated. Oh...Beverly...mmm...”  
“So what did you do?”  
Frowning at having to concentrate on something other than what Beverly was doing to him, he sighed.  
“I lost patience with the local girls and went to Paris seeking a sex worker...an alien female who took a more liberal view of human male anatomy and had no preconceived ideas about what constituted a normal range of size. I’d got it into my head that I was too bloody good for the local girls. Talk about conceited! Beverly it makes me cringe to even think about it. ”  
“So what happened?”  
“I was...oh, fuck....do that again, oh, please...”  
Beverly did as he asked then sighed and gave in to her own pleasure. She closed her eyes and allowed Jean-Luc to bring her to orgasm, her long, softly drawn out sigh heightening his need.  
“Jesus, Beverly, if only you could see yourself when you come.” His voice held such reverence and need, Beverly slitted her eyes and smiled. “Your turn will come soon enough, Jean-Luc. You were saying?”  
He took a deep breath and reached down to replace her hand on his penis, his eyes drifting closed as she resumed her caresses.  
“You have to understand I’d had little contact with aliens. Of course I learned about the different worlds of the Federation in school, and on my visits into LaBarre I would see the occasional alien tourists but as to actually interacting with any...” He offered a one shoulder shrug. “I suppose I sound so provincial, perhaps even a tad prejudiced, but really it was just inexperience.”  
“So?”  
“So, I found myself in the erotic quarter of Paris, surrounded by a multitude of species, male and female, most I’d never seen before and including plenty of humans as well and I was completely unprepared.”  
He lapsed into silence then as Beverly did something quite devious with her fingers which included his testicles, making him growl and mutter, “You realise my balls are aching.”  
“You can take it, Jean-Luc. Keep talking, you know how arousing I find your voice...and your language.”  
In retaliation, Jean-Luc lowered his head and gently bit Beverly’s nipple, while pushing his fingers deep inside her.   
“AH!” She cried, making Jean-Luc’s eyes darken. “Shall I go on?” He rumbled. It was a challenge and Beverly was up to it. “Yes, tell me more.” She gasped softly.  
“I wandered around, lost in nervousness and uncertainty. I mean it was going to be, I hoped, my first time. My original plan, which had seemed so simple, was fast becoming so obviously stupid that I decided I was being an idiot and turned, intending to leave.”  
“What was your plan? Oh! Oh....yes...mmm...”  
“I thought I would find someone and say something like...Look, I have a bit of a large cock and I’m having trouble finding a partner my age who is willing to have sex with me. How about helping me out?”  
Beverly couldn’t contain the snort that escaped, but it soon turned into a moan of intense pleasure. She struggled to regain her senses.  
“So, you didn’t say that?”  
“No, I didn’t, thank God.”  
“So what did happen?”  
“I was leaving when I felt a warm hand on my shoulder. I turned and a really strange looking creature said in heavily accented Standard, “What are you looking for?”  
“I panicked of course, thinking in my riotously libidinous mind that I was being asked what I was into. You know...BDSM? SM? Gay? So I mumbled something incoherent and tried to leave, but this being...and to this day I don’t know its gender, although I do know now it was an Argellan, said very gently, “Tell me what it is you need.”  
“I don’t know how I found the words, Beverly, I was so fucking embarrassed, but I stammered out that I wanted to have sex...with a female of a species other than human and to its credit, it didn’t laugh or belittle me, it just took my hand and we strolled through the streets, obviously going somewhere, but of course I had no idea where. Oh...mmm...Beverly, please I want to be inside you.”  
“You will be, Jean-Luc, just wait a little longer. Keep talking. What happened next?”  
“What? Oh...Ah!...” His breath hissed through his teeth. “It took me to a really lovely apartment building, old but wonderfully restored. Inside there was an old fashioned lift, my God, it must’ve been over two centuries old and we went in and rose to the third floor. There were four suites, quite large and I was taken to a door and the buzzer pressed. The being that answered...Fuck! Beverly, stop or I’ll come in your hand!”  
Easing her caresses, Beverly waited until he calmed down. Taking a deep breath, Jean-Luc swallowed and continued. “She, and yes, she was definitely female, was stunning. Exotic and so oddly alien, but undeniably sensual. The two beings spoke together in a language I didn’t understand and then I was ushered inside. The door whispered shut and I suddenly realised I was alone with her and my nervousness returned with a vengeance. I was going to fuck for the first time! While I’d been strolling with the Argellan it had put me at ease, pointing out significant buildings, telling me their history and of course in the meantime, taking my mind off my nervousness. By the time we entered the apartments, I was quite relaxed. Looking back, I now realise the female I was left with, and to this day I have no idea what species she was, was if not fully telepathic, then certainly empathic. She knew, Beverly. She knew exactly how I felt.”  
Humming softly as he drew the tips of three fingers across the sensitive spot inside her vagina, Beverly remarked gently,  
“But surely as an experienced sex worker she’d know...Oh...Jean-Luc...keep doing that...don’t stop...oh! I’m going to...I’m going to...”  
“Do it, Beverly, let go...come for me.”  
This time she didn’t release his penis from her grip and he gasped as she squeezed him through her orgasm. When she’d calmed she opened her eyes and they were glittering with hunger. Jean-Luc knew these orgasms she was experiencing were just to keep the edge off. She wouldn’t be completely satisfied until he was deep inside her. But he also knew she was having success in diverting her mind from her sorrow. They both were.  
“So?”  
“Hmm, I...oh God...” She used her fingertips to draw his foreskin back and forward over the head of his penis, thoroughly distracting him, but instead of stopping, Beverly said quietly,  
“Come on, talk to me.”  
“Evil, that’s what you are, Beverly, fucking evil.”  
“Yes, we know that, but you were saying?”  
“Oh, fuck...um...right. Um, she encouraged me to sit down on this really odd chair and she sat opposite with a low table between us. Then she reached up and pressed something under the skin of her neck, a subdermal interpreter. When she spoke I was annoyed at the vocal Standard interpretation, because her own voice was so beautiful...lyrical and almost tinkling. Anyway she asked me if I wanted anything to eat or drink and, fool that I was...so desperate to impress, I said the first thing that came into my stupid head.”  
Now amused and intrigued, despite what he was doing to her, Beverly asked,  
“What did you say?”  
“Aldebaran whiskey.”  
Gasping with disbelief, Beverly said incredulously, “You didn’t?! But surely you must’ve known that humans can’t metabolise Aldebaran whiskey until they’re at least 25 years old?”  
“Oh, I knew all right.”  
“Well what did she do? Did she give you any?”  
“Yes...mmm, Beverly, so good, so good...”  
“What happened?” She asked insistently.  
Sighing, Jean-Luc managed to grin. “She knew of course and when she returned from the bar she had two glasses. One, a tumbler half-full with a dark blue liquid which sparkled and a thankfully small glass, called a ‘shot’ glass I believe, with a small amount of the green whiskey in it. She held up her glass, and I did the same, appalled that my hand was shaking. Luckily I only took a small sip, but my God, as soon as it was in my mouth it began to get hot and very quickly I had only two options. Spit it out and look a complete and utter fool, or swallow.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to overcome his reactions to Beverly’s intensely intimate caresses.  
“I swallowed.”  
“Ha! What happened?”  
“About what you’d expect. My eyes bulged, I paled significantly and I began to sweat...profusely. My...companion downed her drink quickly and, as she rose so elegantly to her feet, she remarked that her drink would help her. I had no idea what she meant. Did she mean relax her? Prepare her? Arouse her? No idea. Anyway she picked up my glass and tossed back the whiskey with absolutely no reaction, then held out her hand, drawing me to my shaking legs. She then took me on a tour through the apartment and I had to admit, I was impressed. The décor seemed so eccentric, so alien, but everything was so clean and it smelled nice, like freshly cut lemons mixed with some kind of incense.”  
Beverly moved closer to him, until her hard nipples touched his hirsute chest. “More, Jean-Luc, keep going.”  
“She ended up showing me three bedrooms each decorated differently and asked me to choose. By that stage I was becoming aroused, but slowly, I wasn’t getting hard, not then, but my body had begun to hum somehow. In retrospect, I believe she was emitting a very potent pheromone. I didn’t care which bedroom we used, I just wanted to have sex. So we went into the closest one.”   
He shifted his head on the pillow and closed his eyes in remembrance. “I was so callow, Beverly. I’d expected mirrors on the ceiling, sex toys lying around, but it was nothing like that. Yes, there was a very large bed, but other than that it was just what you’d expect of any ordinary bedroom. She asked me if I wanted to undress myself, or if I wished her help. By now I was getting hard and I was in a daze. It took a couple of minutes to realise she was undressing me, so I tried to do the same for her, but not only was I completely unfamiliar with her clothing, my hands were trembling so badly they were all but useless. So she did it all and by the time we were both naked I was so hard I was actually dripping precome.”  
He sighed and groaned softly. “Oh Jesus, Beverly, I don’t know how much longer I can wait.”  
“Keep going, Jean-Luc, this is so erotic...”  
“All right...she looked down my body and I swallowed when she studied my cock and then she smiled and said, ‘You are lovely, my young friend, but I have seen many much, much bigger human men. You are going to be just right and, as this will be your first time, I will teach you things, things you never dreamed of. In time you will bring immense pleasure to human women, just be patient.’ I was so grateful to hear that, I nearly wept. She led me to the bed and Beverly, I wanted her so badly, I was mindless, I just wanted to come inside her, but when she eased me on top of her, I didn’t know where to put my cock! There were anatomical differences and I almost panicked, but she said softly and gently,  
“Lift your hips.”So I did and she took me in her hand...she had seven fingers, long thin fingers with no nails...and guided me inside. And you know what? I came! As soon as I was fully inside her I came so hard I saw stars!  
“She stroked my back, probably thinking it was over, but I lifted my head and looked into her remarkably coloured eyes and saw something that gratified me so deeply I almost shouted with joy. She was surprised, because I was still as hard as a rock.”  
Beverly changed her caresses, using both hands now, one to continue to stroke him the other to heft and gently squeeze his very full testicles. Not to be outdone, Jean-Luc pushed his leg between hers and altered his hand so that as well as fingering her and teasing her clit, his thumb now eased just inside her anus.  
“Ah! Oh...Oh yes!...Jean-Luc...Oh!”  
“Again, Beverly, once more for me.”  
The orgasm swept through her and she flexed this time, her need still not met, but growing. “More, tell me more!”  
“I started to thrust like a jackhammer, my God, I was fucking her so hard, but she slowed me down, introducing me to the intense pleasure that control brings when orgasm is delayed. She also got me to drink some of that dark blue sparkling liquid.  
“I ended up staying the rest of the day with her and into the early evening. I came so many times that I ran out of ejaculate. I also became very sore, but she had a regenerator. She taught me how to ejaculate without expelling any semen. I didn’t know that was possible, but it is. The orgasm is very different and not nearly as intense, but still very pleasurable. Obviously the drink she gave me helped somehow. Anyway I got home very late and of course my father and brother berated me, but it was my mother who was the most surprising. She’d saved my dinner and kept looking at me as I ate. She never said anything, not then or ever, but I think somehow she knew.”  
“Wow, what a fantastic story. But why did I see regret in your eyes, Jean-Luc?”  
He closed his eyes, momentarily giving himself to the sensations of her caresses.  
“Jean-Luc?”  
“Um...I suppose it will sound conceited, or maybe simply prejudiced, but I regret that my first time wasn’t with a human female.”  
“So when did that happen?”  
He had had enough. Rolling Beverly onto her back, he gripped her wrists tightly and held her hands next to her head, muttering darkly, “Enough talking!”  
He knew he had to be gentle, at least at first, but he was desperate to be deep inside Beverly, so he entered her more quickly than he should’ve. Beverly arched up from the bed, but the cry that was torn from her throat was one of intense pleasure. He was fully immersed, buried to the hilt, but he immediately stopped, knowing she liked to feel him filling her.  
Panting softly, Beverly slid her hands down to grip his buttocks. “Okay, just give me a minute, I want to savour it.”  
It was excruciating for Jean-Luc to be so deeply inside the only woman he’d ever truly loved and not move. After a moment or two, Beverly gently bit his earlobe and undulated her hips, whispering huskily, “Now. Now, Jean-Luc, but gently....gently, my love. I want it slow and deep. Baise moi.”  
Hearing such crude words in his own language had a profound effect on Jean-Luc. Although he rarely used coarse language of any sort as a matter of course, given the circumstances and Beverly’s request he didn’t have a problem with it, but her use of such a crudity in French struck on two levels. One: the shock of hearing his wife say something so crude in his native tongue but deeper, a base, sexual thrill at the raw intimacy it implied.  
Barely able to restrain himself, he did as she requested. Long, slow, gentle thrusts, sliding his length in and out of her. Beverly’s cheeks puffed as she breathed steadily, feeling him not only stretch her, but reach so very deeply inside her. She’d never had a lover like Jean-Luc and had never experienced the depth of pleasure he could bring her, sometimes he went a little too deeply inside her, but it never hurt and she accepted it gladly.  
She felt the first rush of what she knew would be a multi-orgasm approaching and knew that Jean-Luc was going to have to thrust harder to reach his release. Long used to each other’s needs, she called out urgently,  
“Oh God! Now! Do it now!”  
Because he’d waited so long it didn’t take much, just a few short, hard jabs and he was there, but as he ejaculated, he didn’t stop his thrusts, knowing that as long as he moved inside her, Beverly would keep coming again and again.   
It was Beverly who finally gripped his arms, saying raggedly, “Stop! No more...enough!”  
Stilling, Jean-Luc rolled to his side, bringing Beverly with him. Employing a mental technique he’d taught himself, he willed his erection to subside, knowing in its flaccid state, Beverly would find it comfortable inside her, in fact she’d told him she liked it that way afterwards. He smiled to himself as he considered bringing her to orgasm again with his fingers while she was still filled. He wished to keep her distracted. Idly sliding his fingers over her hyper-sensitive clit, Beverly’s eyes slitted open and she hissed.  
His voice rumbled through his chest, one eyebrow raised in intense scrutiny. “More?”  
Still panting, Beverly’s eyes were clouded with a residue of desire. “I...I...”  
“I’ll be very gentle mon coeur, just my fingers, not my cock, but it’ll be inside you.”  
Her reply came out as a long, drawn-out sigh. “Yes...”  
He growled his appreciation and, as promised, brought her to three more gentle orgasms. Finally sated, Beverly’s body was utterly limp, but her mind was still active. They lay quietly for some time before she said softly,  
“You haven’t finished your story.”  
“You haven’t told me yours.”  
“Uh uh. You first. I want to know about your first human female sexual experience.”  
He eased himself out of Beverly and rolled onto his back, lifting his arm and inviting her to snuggle into his side, their legs entwined, her head on his chest. They both knew he might become erect again as he recounted his story, but Beverly was utterly sated. Jean-Luc would masturbate if he wanted to and Beverly would help him.  
Nevertheless, there was a hint of exasperation in his voice when he said,  
“You’re insatiable, Beverly. Not only sexually, but with curiosity. Why is it so important for you to know?”  
Beverly was reluctant to tell him as she worried he might be offended, but they had always been scrupulously honest with each other, so she had to tell him.  
“Obviously I’d seen you naked before...many times, although not erect...before we became lovers and I knew you were well endowed, but there is an enormous variance in human males between their flaccid state and their erect state. Some men don’t grow much, they just get hard, and some increase by the average amount, but it wasn’t until I saw you fully erect for the first time that I realised you were well above average. But although I knew I’d be okay with it, I couldn’t help but be intensely curious as to how you...coped. How other women...felt about you being a bit bigger than usual, especially when you were younger. Jack had told me about your reputation and I just wondered.”  
He was quiet for a while, but Beverly felt he wasn’t unduly upset. He too was curious and was looking forward to hearing about her first time.  
“Well...it was some years later. As you know, once I got into the Academy, I became quite a cocksman, a ladies’ man...a rake, I believe men like me were once called. If it was female, alive and willing, I’d fuck her. But not a human. I tried a few times but the same thing always happened. They’d take one look at my stiff cock and shake their heads as if they were so fucking precious they wouldn’t like a decent cock to play with! Of course eventually word got around, the actual truth becoming distorted with each telling, like Chinese whispers, and human females actively avoided me. God that pissed me off. It wasn’t as if I’d done something wrong. Jesus, it was nothing but a damned rumour, spread by scared, ignorant, sexually naive little princesses whose twats were too good for the likes of a French farm boy!” The vehemence of his outburst surprised Beverly, but she wisely held her tongue. He huffed out a calming breath. “Anyway, half way through my final year a woman in my year struck up a friendship with me, one I really appreciated. I did have a few human women friends, but even Marta Batanides kept her distance and I considered her my closest human female friend.   
“Anyway this woman, her name was Susan, was kind of bookish, shy, sort of plain looking, but nice, you know, not one of the usual crowd and I found her company very soothing. She was highly intelligent, so she was intellectually stimulating and I think I might have been growing tired of my libertine ways, although as you well know, it took a Naussican blade through my chest and the loss of my heart to make me finally see that I had to change my ways, but that came later.  
“So Susan and I sort of became an unofficial couple. I’m ashamed to admit I didn’t make it obvious we were a couple, I thought, in my arrogance, it would be bad for my image.” He shook his head and closed his eyes. “What a self-centred prick I was!” He sighed again. “A few months went by and one evening we were studying in her room and she quite suddenly kissed me. I was somewhat taken aback, it had never even crossed my mind she might want to...you know, I mean she’d never given me any signals, any signs, no hints...”  
He grimaced and rubbed his eyes. “But she soon made it very clear she wanted to have sex with me. I wasn’t sure what to do, believe it or not, so instead of letting things go too far, I told her about my...you know, my,” He made a quotation mark with his free fingers. “Scary cock and I was happily surprised to find that not only did she know about it, she wanted it! She actually laughed with anticipation! My God, talk about a wolf in sheep’s clothing. So we got naked very quickly, I was so very keen you understand, and I was highly bemused when she picked up a vidcorder and filmed me in all my naked, erect glory. I had to make her give her word she would never distribute the footage or any stills. I found out years later that she had quite a collection of her conquests. It seems she made a point of having sex with well endowed men and kept the vids as a memento. So anyway, she readily agreed, I mean, Beverly, this woman, this seemingly meek and mild woman was actually salivating! So we got on the bed and things got very heated very quickly and then she really amused me by making a big show of producing a tube of lubricant, slathering it all over my cock, then put an attachment on the end on the tube and got me to insert it inside her to make sure there was enough lube in there. Jesus, what did she think I was going to do? She could see my cock! It was blatantly obvious I wasn’t some kind of fucking horse! Anyway, she then tossed the tube onto the floor and lay back, spreading her legs and saying as bold as brass, “Fuck me, Johnny! Fuck my brains out!”  
Beverly lifted her head and could plainly see the wonder in his eyes.  
“So what did you do?”  
He chuckled and shook his head.  
“Exactly what she asked me to do! I started out gently of course, but she really did have a taste for it. Certainly I went harder than I thought I could and in the end we did fuck our brains out!” He laughed softly and sighed deeply. “It was wonderful, Beverly. For the first time in my life I felt truly liberated. It felt...I don’t know...right.” Tucking in his chin, he looked down at his wife.  
“Of course at that time in my life I was not aware of the yawning difference between having sex, fucking, and making love, like the changes I made in my life; that was to come much later.”  
“So what happened to her? Did you stay a couple?”  
“Uh huh, but sort of sporadically and after we graduated, we got different postings and lost contact. I didn’t have sex with another human female again until long after I’d lost my heart.”  
“Why? Didn’t you say you felt liberated by the experience?”  
He sighed and slowly blinked. “I did, but I’d become so accustomed to having some really good sex with aliens that I sort of stuck with what I knew.”  
Shrewdly, Beverly asked, “Was that why you were so pissed off with the women at the Academy?”  
He shrugged diffidently and Beverly looked up to see him frowning. “I suppose it was a combination of things. Yes, I was angry with them, but I have to admit, they may have thought I was of the opinion they weren’t good enough for me.” He sighed. “After all I was known for my penchant for alien females. That might have provoked ill feeling and they just used my size as a convenient excuse.”  
“Yes,” Beverly was careful to sound non judgemental. “But you also mentioned, ‘French farm boy.’ Surely by your final year any feelings of naiveté or lack of sophistication would’ve been gone?”  
Jean-Luc was silent for a few moments before he sighed and closed his eyes.  
“Even though I knew from a very early age what is was I wanted to do, I had a lifetime of mental abuse to contend with. Ingrained feelings of inadequacy take a very long time to disappear, Beverly. I had been well conditioned by my father and brother, too entrenched in believing their assessment of me as worthless and inadequate to shrug it off all that easily. In fact, it was most likely behind my less than exemplary behaviour at the Academy.” He snorted, his expression showing his remembered pain. “What a fucking irony. I entered the Academy carrying the burden of guilt and the knowledge that my actions in pursuit of my dreams had estranged my father, yet even though I excelled scholastically and athletically, I was still rebelling. Only instead of defiance against authority, I chose to take my angst out with sex. Not angry sex, I never deliberately hurt anyone, just a hell of a lot of sex. I went from meek to wild.” He huffed out a breath. “And it damned near cost me my life.”  
They were both quiet for some time before Beverly said softly, but slightly cheekily,  
“So who was it? The next human female? Anyone I know?”  
“God, you’re nosey.” He said with exasperation. Then he grinned. “As a matter of fact yes, you do.”  
“Really? Who?”  
His grin was wolfish. “Phillipa Louvois.”  
Happy that he seemed to have left his moroseness and anger behind, Beverly grinned.  
“Holy shit, Jean-Luc! Didn’t she act as prosecution in your court martial over the loss of the Stargazer?”  
“Uh huh.”  
Unsuccessfully stifling a chortle, Beverly’s eyes gleamed. “Talk about not shitting where you eat!”  
His large hand had drifted down the plain of his stomach and had taken his penis to slowly stroke it. Beverly covered his hand with hers and sighed, both of them enjoying the post coital harmony. His chest vibrated when he rumbled, “Your turn.”  
Taking her hand off his she gripped him below his hand and matched his rhythm.  
“Well, my story isn’t as salacious as yours, but I think you might find it...interesting.”  
His eyebrow rose and his cock grew harder. “Indeed? Tell me.”  
“I lost my cherry in a threesome.”  
Jean-Luc’s hand stilled, making Beverly’s hand collide with his. “You’re joking. Really?”  
“Yep. I was like you, just around seventeen and I was going nuts at how my nanna was confining me.” Before Jean-Luc could ask for clarification, she shook her head. “No, she didn’t actually confine me, not physically, but she was always watching, nagging ever so gently about boys and how I should be ‘careful’. I think it was the whole Arveda thing, she was just so protective.” She sighed. “Jesus, Jean-Luc, I’d already found my clit, I discovered those particular delights when I was thirteen and I knew I had a high libido...” She grinned. “Just like you.” Their hands were moving in synch again and Jean-Luc sighed with pleasure.  
“So?”  
“So, I had three secret boyfriends and I couldn’t decide which one I liked best. I had decided to lose my virginity, but I couldn’t make up my mind which one was to have the honour, so I waited until nanna had to go to a conference over night and, being old enough to be left alone, I invited all of them over for a little party, one I hoped would be very pleasurable.”  
She giggled with remembered wickedness. “I think the guys got the idea as soon as they arrived, ‘cause I answered the door dressed in nothing but a bright red thong and a flimsy see through robe and to help things along, I had some cosmic dust.”  
Scandalised, Jean-Luc gasped. “You’re kidding? Where the hell did you get that from?”  
“It wasn’t easy, let me tell you! Caldos is an out-of-the-way planet now, back then it was almost unknown. Anyway I knew the eldest son of one of nanna’s patients and he worked on a freighter. He brought some pretty exotic things to Caldos, including a quantity of cosmic dust.”  
Rising up, Beverly bent low and spent a few moments tonguing the head of Jean-Luc’s penis as he stroked with his hand. “Oh...” He sighed. “So good, Beverly, so fucking good...”  
She lifted her head and grinned. “God, I love it when you talk like that!”  
His eyes drifted closed and he sighed deeply. She grinned saucily. “Hey, stay with me now, things are only getting interesting about now.”  
“Hmm.”  
He sighed deeply again and opened his eyes, letting Beverly know he was paying attention once again.  
“Have you ever used CD?”  
He grinned, his eyes dancing. “Yes, once or twice.”  
“So you know how it enhances sex.”  
“Oh yes, indeed I do.”  
“Well, once we were all as randy as voles, we got to it. As to who popped my cherry, I don’t actually know, in fact, I don’t even know if it was a cock or a finger. All I remember is a sharp pain, a little blood, and a lot of fucking. My God, Jean-Luc, we just couldn’t stop! The guys fucked me, they fucked each other, there were times I had no idea who was fucking who! Later, near dawn, we realised nanna was due back and we had this frantic hour restoring the cottage, putting linens, blankets, covers, Jesus, even the floor mats all had to go through the recycler. There was semen, bodily fluids of all kinds all over the place! And the entire cottage reeked of sex! We opened all the windows and crossed our fingers.”  
“Did your Grandmother ever find out?”  
“Hmm, don’t know. I think she had her suspicions, but without any proof...” Beverly shrugged. “In any event she never said anything.”  
“And your three boyfriends?”  
“Oh we did it a few more times, but eventually it was typical male ego that ruined everything. Each one wanted me to himself and I didn’t want to choose. So eventually we sort of drifted apart. Then I left Caldos for Earth, entered the Academy and began my medical degree. I had a few partners, but the plain truth was I was too bloody busy studying to take the time for decent sex. Until...”  
“Jack.”  
“Yeah.” Beverly said wistfully. “Jack. He had a nice cock too, not as nice as yours and he wasn’t quite as good with his as you are with yours, but boy we had some fun!” She sighed deeply. “Dear, sweet Jack. Oh God, how he used to stir me up with his use of foul language when we had sex!”  
They were quiet for a time, Jean-Luc still slowly stroking his cock. “Beverly...” He said quietly, a note of caution in his voice. “What did you make of our first time?”  
Bending to again tease him with her tongue, Beverly gave the question some thought. She lifted her head only high enough to separate her from the head of his penis.  
“I still don’t understand what happened, Jean-Luc, what dynamics were involved, but I can tell you I’m very glad we did it.” She turned her head, making her long hair trail over his knob and Jean-Luc moaned sensuously. “What about you? What did you make of it?”  
Despite his sexual tension he snorted. “Well, it certainly wasn’t like any of my many and varied fantasies, that’s for certain.”  
Chuckling, Beverly turned and again utilised her tongue. His free hand settled on the back of her head and he sighed deeply. “I had always thought...hoped...it would be...romantic. You know, wine, candles...I never, not once ever thought it would be in a runabout parked in the shuttle bay of my own ship. But I knew; when I stepped into the cockpit area to see you bent over that seat, your delectable arse there for me to ogle, I was going to have trouble controlling my physical reaction to you. Was it that, Beverly? Was it the sight of the straining material of my uniform trousers?”  
Leaving his cock again, Beverly smiled at him. “Partly, in fact I think I gaped, but Jean-Luc, it was what I saw in your eyes. You did what you always did at times when you let your feelings for me surface, you tried to hide it. You dropped your gaze, but not quickly enough that time and I saw.”  
Huskily he asked, “What did you see, Beverly?”  
“Love, that was always there, Jean-Luc, but there was hunger, so raw, and primal, it took my breath away and I knew instantly I had to know, I had to find out what that base part of you was like, because my love, I had no idea you were capable of it. You are so urbane, so sophisticated, so controlled, I wanted...no...I needed to know if you could...or would...let me experience that part of you you’d kept hidden from me for so long.”  
He sighed and closed his eyes. When he spoke his voice was very deep and rough with desire. “Then it might surprise you to know, Beverly, that I saw the same things in your eyes and it was then that I knew we were going to consummate almost thirty years of mind fuck.”  
“Up against the wall.” She snorted. “Three times. My God, I was sore later. It had been a very long time for me, Jean-Luc. But I was absolutely delighted! I wanted to go to you the next day, but I chickened out. I thought you might regret it; that we’d made some kind of monumental mistake.”  
Jean-Luc closed his eyes and grimaced.  
“I thought that was the case and I was so appalled. I kept thinking that I’d ruined everything, that you’d never accept me as a lover. God, I acted like a fucking teenager, going at you as if I’d never had my cock inside a woman before. I mean Jesus! We didn’t even indulge in any foreplay!”  
“I know.” Chuckled Beverly. “As I recall, we had only enough time to remove the clothing that was in the way. That was when I first saw your magnificent cock for the first time, hard and hot and all for me.”  
“And you were...unsure?” He asked tentatively.  
She frowned. “No, not unsure exactly, curious, yes, a tiny little bit intimidated, I mean it wasn’t just your cock, you were so intense, so focused, so fucking aroused, but Jean-Luc, I wanted you so badly, you could’ve been three times your size and I would’ve done my best to accommodate you. I loved you, I don’t know why I never actually said the words, we both knew.” She sighed. “We both had reasons to be afraid, Jean-Luc. I’m just glad that moment in time occurred.”  
“Me too. I love you, Beverly. And I’m so proud and happy you agreed to marry me.”   
Beverly felt a momentary flash of disquiet, but pushed it aside.  
“Well, someone had to take you off the market, Jean-Luc. You’d been the Fleet’s most eligible bachelor for far too long. Besides, I wanted your cock all to myself.”   
Bending again, just before her mouth closed over the head of his now throbbing cock, she murmured, “Now, let’s see how far up your chest you can come.”  
Later they were drifting to sleep, Jean-Luc wondering if they’d done enough to ease their pain, at least to stay asleep for the rest of the long night, hanging on to their languor and both wishing the next day would not happen, because with it would come the inevitable trip to sick bay to inform their fertility team of their decision to finally give up.

 

Although neither Jean-Luc nor Beverly had ever said anything of their difficulties in trying to conceive, their friends knew the almost completely concealed sorrow hid much more than they were willing to show. Scuttlebutt had provided the news of each and every failure, so when the couple took their seats in the aft lounge for the mission briefing, the sombre, tired aura surrounding them made the assembled officers sad. Obviously they had suffered yet another failure.  
Will Riker, sitting in his customary place at his Captain’s left, felt a familiar pang of deep grief as he wished yet again that his beloved Imzadi, Counsellor Deanna Troi, hadn’t died so tragically and so recently. Not only because her death had wounded him so deeply, but he knew his dear friends needed her so badly now. His thoughts went automatically to his three month old daughter, and said silently to himself, “She’s so beautiful, Deanna, you’d be so proud. I’m so sorry you never got to see her.”  
His gaze flicked to the ship’s new Counsellor, a human male, middle aged and quite unremarkable in appearance, but dedicated and highly trained and experienced. But no amount of dedication, training or experience could help the Captain and his wife. Only Deanna would’ve been able to do that. Squeezing his eyes shut and forcing his tears away, Will took a deep breath and banished all thoughts other than those directly involved with the current mission. Given his friends’ terrible and sad failures he didn’t want to remind them of his own status as a parent, albeit a single one. The circumstances of his daughter’s birth which had ultimately cost Deanna her life were well known and served no purpose if it further distressed his friends.  
A haunted captain summoned a wan smile that didn’t reach his eyes and brought the meeting to order. The others at the table heard the uncharacteristic roughness of his usually mellifluous voice. Chief Engineer, Geordi LaForge, Chief of Security, M’Rak, Counsellor Patrick Adams, Will, Beverly and Jean-Luc had read the intel package and Jean-Luc had sat through a lengthy briefing with an admiral at Command via subspace.   
“All right, what we have here is a mystery, one which I hope we can solve peacefully, and arrive at the end result with, if not a new Federation member, then certainly a new friend. As you know, during the Dominion war, two Starfleet vessels, having been very badly damaged in a vicious and sustained fight with some Jem’Hadar, were being pursued, hunted...the Jem’Hadar wanting to make the kill, but both ‘fleet ships managed to give them the slip. They hid in a gaseous cloud, but it was probably more likely that the hunters were recalled to battle elsewhere than the damaged ships actually shaking the Jem’Hadar off. It matters not. The ships, barely functioning, drifted helplessly in space for some weeks, eventually leaving Federation space and out into uncharted waters.   
“Of the two ships, only one had a barely functioning scanner, but neither had sensors or any means to communicate either with each other or to send a distress call. So when they drifted into an unknown star system, they didn’t know they’d picked up three ‘escorts’ until they were almost alongside. With communications down, the alien ships simply locked on tractor beams and proceeded to tow them, to where, they had no idea.  
“It was with some shock and a huge amount of relief that the ships were taken to an orbiting space dock and, over a period of a month and a half, were completely repaired. Every bit of damage, every system. Not only that, but a message, text only and in Standard was delivered informing the surviving senior officer of each ship to place the injured crew members in a specific place on each ship and as soon as that had been achieved the injured were transported away.  
“Later interviews with these crew members doesn’t shed much light on our mystery. The benefactors never showed themselves, always appearing completely covered in a form-fitting suit of some description, even the face was obscured. All we know is that they’re humanoid and slightly taller than an average human male. They did not communicate in any way.” Jean-Luc looked down and frowned as if he was trying to remember something. Beverly gently touched his hand and said softly, “Hands.”  
His eyebrows rose and he smiled. “Ah! Yes, their hands. Large and seven fingers. But always gloved.”  
Will sat back dragging his fingers through the beard he’d recently regrown. “So, were they showing their hand? Taking sides in the war?”  
Jean-Luc also sat back and shrugged.  
“Unknown, Number One. They’re too many possibilities. It may be they were simply altruistic, or perhaps they’d heard of the conflict and decided to assist any ship in need or perhaps they had some other reason. The thing is they are obviously technologically advanced and warp-capable.”  
Beverly sat forward and laced her fingers together. “From what we learned from those crew given medical treatment, it’s not only obvious that the aliens are medically more advanced than us, but they were well aware of human and other species’ physiology. They knew exactly what they were doing. The crew members didn’t even see any medical equipment or devices, yet some very badly injured people were healed with remarkable ease.”  
Jean-Luc nodded. “Indeed, it certainly wasn’t the injured crew who took the time needed during the ships’ stay; it was simply the amount of damage that each ship needed to have repaired.”  
M’Rak frowned, her Vulcan mind seeking the most logical solution. “They must have accessed the computer cores on the Starfleet vessels, Captain. Thus armed, they were well informed with all they needed to know.”  
Offering a rueful smile, Jean-Luc shook his head. “A sound bit of reasoning, Commander, but I’m afraid that’s not the case. The computer cores on each ship were not functioning. They’d been too badly damaged. In fact the only thing that was functioning with any dependability on either ship was life support and, as you know, that has an independent fail-safe as back up. Luckily for the survivors. The computers were one of the things the aliens repaired and they did it so well, our scientist are still trying to figure out not only how they did it, but with what? Those ships’ computers are now far and above anything we have at present and without the new technology, the ships wouldn’t have made it back to Earth because inputted as a silent subroutine was the way to successfully avoid detection from patrolling Jem’Hadar ships. Something we’d been working on for years, unsuccessfully, I might add.”  
Long looks were exchanged before Jean-Luc continued. “So, the Dominion war ends and the Federation prevailed. Then came the Borg. We all know the carnage that followed; the sheer number of devastated worlds, the billions of dead. But in the aftermath, surfacing almost two years afterwards was a very interesting ship’s log, salvaged from the remains of a Federation ship, oddly not too far from the area of space our previous ships’ commanders had estimated our mystery star system is. Now this log is very interesting as it clearly states that three Federation ships had engaged two Borg cubes, with the inevitable result. However, although all three ‘fleet ships were destroyed, the captain of one of those ships made a last ditch final log entry and in that entry she reports the arrival on the scene of one alien vessel. Before our ships were destroyed, the captain witnessed one of the Borg cubes annihilated with one shot from the alien ship. The group of ships involved in the salvage operation report the evidence of both Borg ships utterly and completely destroyed. The inference is that the alien ship arrived too late to save our ships but destroyed the Borg anyway. Now you can draw from that what you will, but I can only hope they did so either as a gesture of good will, or for self preservation, either would suffice. The fact is any species that considers the Borg an enemy and boasts that kind of weaponry is worth getting to know.”  
There was a moment or two of silence as the ramifications of Jean-Luc’s words were considered. The captain took a deep breath and continued.  
“Three weeks ago, Command received a very intriguing invitation, in Standard, text only, from a hitherto unknown species. They didn’t identify themselves by name, nor did they offer a name for their home world, just a set of coordinates. It wasn’t until some investigation took place that it was realised the coordinates compare roughly with the estimated location of the mystery alien benefactors’ system.”  
Will sat up, his blue eyes, which had for so long been perpetually bright and happy, but now almost always tinged with sadness, narrowed and his voice showed both suspicion and tension.  
“So just what was the invitation for, Captain?”  
“Well,” Sighed Jean-Luc. “This is where it gets a little odd. Now if it’s the same beings, then we already know they’re more technologically advanced than us, but...although the invitation is for a Federation ship be sent to visit, a request within the invitation, asks that the ‘most prominent healer’ (their exact words) on the ship be the one to interact with the welcoming party.”  
Will scowled. “Then it can’t be the same people. I mean if they’re so far ahead of us, why would they want to see one of our doctors?”  
Jean-Luc’s smile was tired. “Unknown. But the coordinates are simply too close! It has to be the same beings. And, given that if it is indeed the same species, then we own them a rather large debt of gratitude. Command thinks we have no option but to accept and I for one agree.”  
Counsellor Adams tilted his head, his hands laced over his slightly protuberant stomach.   
“Captain, did they ask for the Enterprise by name?”  
Smiling again, Jean-Luc shook his head. “No, but...” He turned to Beverly and his smile widened. “Command is well aware that we have the best CMO in the fleet. And to that end, Doctor Crusher has been studying every scrap of information about our mystery aliens, which admittedly is not much.”  
M’Rak sat forward, her mind already seeing the difficulties of the mission.  
“Sir, in this invitation and request, are there any details on how Doctor Crusher is to present herself? Will she be able to be accompanied by a security detail? Will she be permitted to be armed?”  
Shrugging, Jean-Luc sighed. “I can’t tell you anything more, lieutenant, you know as much as I do. I can only hope that once we reach the coordinates, we will be given the opportunity to make what will be to all intents and purposes, a first contact. If it means that Doctor Crusher is the chosen individual, than sobeit. My hands are tied. Command is very keen to develop some kind of relationship with these people and it’s our job...” He bowed his head towards Beverly, “Or Doctor Crusher’s job, to see that it happens.”  
The collected officers all cast Beverly a speculative look. She summoned a smile and gave a soft snort.  
“It’s okay,” She said mildly. “I’ve learned from the best.” Her gaze flicked to her husband and he smiled. Looking back at the assemblage, he drew a deep breath.   
“At our present warp five, we’ll arrive at the coordinates in four weeks. In the meantime, command has assured me they’re going to persist in opening some kind of dialogue with these people before we get there. If they’re successful, we’ll be given any information command can glean. Otherwise we go in cold.” He took a deep breath and tried to make his smile reach his eyes. “If you have no other questions?”  
Receiving a negative response, he said quietly, “Dismissed.”  
Beverly stayed behind, rising slowly from her seat to stand at the viewport to stare out at the passing stars. She knew Jean-Luc would join her. Once his warm hands rested on her hips, she focused on his reflection in the clear aluminium.  
“I didn’t want to leave our quarters this morning.” She said quietly. Jean-Luc sighed and very gently placed his chin on her shoulder.  
“Me either.”  
“It was as if as long as we stayed there, we could hang on to last night.”  
“I know.”  
Her gaze shifted to the stars. “I wish Deanna was here.” So forlorn. So utterly sad.  
There was little Jean-Luc could say to that. Not only did they miss their dear friend achingly, Beverly’s best female friend, but they so sorely missed her ability as a counsellor. It wasn’t that they lacked confidence in counsellor Adams, it was simply that they were both naturally very private people and their difficulties were so deep, they knew it would only be with Deanna that they could seek help. And of course, added to the shared tragedy was the manner of Deanna’s death.  
It had been Beverly who had given Will and Deanna the happy news of her pregnancy, but even in the early stages there had been problems. The baby’s hybridism had been complicated by the fact that Deanna herself was a hybrid and for some reason it caused trouble, even though there were only two seemingly compatible species involved. However it wasn’t anything Beverly couldn’t treat and so the pregnancy progressed more or less normally. The one thing that proved elusive was the gestational rate as Betazoids gestated longer than humans and the growing baby gave confusing readings as to the development. It was normal in that there were no abnormalities in the baby itself, but the growth rate was unusually sporadic.  
Deanna had decided to have the baby on Betazed, which Will wasn’t all that happy about for two reasons. One, the planet had suffered greatly during the Borg incursion and had not yet rebuilt all the necessary infrastructure, including hospitals and two, he couldn’t get away to travel with her at the time she wished to go. Although he was to join her only a week after she’d reached her home planet. So she, being stubborn, went on her own. Her shuttle encountered an ion storm. Nothing unusual in that, it wasn’t even a big one, but as was usual, it cut communications and interfered with the craft’s propulsion system for its duration and the shuttle was effectively stranded until it dissipated.   
Unfortunately for Deanna, that was the time her baby decided to be born. Having only enough time to eject a distress buoy, Deanna sunk to the deck in agony. The baby was premature. Two months by human standards, three by Betazoid. Deanna’s labour was relatively quick and she did her best to record a log, but as the baby began to crown the placenta tore badly resulting in a catastrophic haemorrhage. Deanna lost so much blood so quickly she died just as her daughter left her body. The buoy was self-propelled and the Enterprise picked up its signal the instant it cleared the ion storm.   
By the time the ship found the shuttle the little baby was alive but suffering from hypothermia. She was saved but nothing could be done for Deanna. Will was inconsolable and was relieved of duty for several weeks, while the baby girl was cared for by medical staff. He named his daughter Charlotte and had only started to become her father full time recently.  
At the time of the briefing he’d only been back on duty three weeks. The continuing failures of his friends to successfully conceive only served to increase his grief. Even being in the same room as them made him want to cry, something he’d been doing a lot.  
Somehow he had to find a way to be a parent without his Imzadi by his side while at the same time not cause his friends any added sorrow. He found out the next day that they had finally given up. Deep inside him, in a place he would never admit to existing he cheered. Not because he thought it would ease his own pain, but that it might help his dear friends. The fact that it meant they would be forever childless was so ironic it wrenched his gut.

 

Dinner that evening in the Picard quarters was understandably subdued. Jean-Luc and Beverly had discussed First Contact protocols, then spent some time speculating the reasons behind the aliens’ contact. But with so much unknown, eventually they began to talk in circles, only serving to frustrate them both. Of course the underlying sorrow and feelings of defeat and frustration coloured their moods and Beverly became slightly irritated when her husband persisted in trying to not cheer her up, exactly, but certainly to attempt to lighten her mood. Eventually she snapped,  
“For God’s sake, Jean-Luc! I don’t need your continued solicitousness. We’re both hurting! This is grief we’re experiencing, it’s not going to go away any time soon and trying to jolly me along is not helping.”  
He closed his eyes and bowed his head, his shoulders lifting in a deep sigh. “I know, Beverly, I’m sorry...I just feel so helpless. I want to help, I want to do something! Anything to ease your pain.”  
Squeezing her eyes shut, Beverly said quietly, “But it’s not just my pain, Jean-Luc. It’s our pain. I feel just as helpless as you. I feel just like you, I want to help you! Why do you think it’s any harder for me? I know you’re hurting. I know you’re grieving, just as much as I am.”  
He sighed and turned to gaze out at the passing stars. “I don’t know really. I suppose it’s my default position. Revert to what I know best. Being the Captain.”  
“So you deny your feelings? Even to me?”  
He turned back and offered a small smile. “No, Beverly, never to you. I think perhaps I was just trying to ease your pain by making you think you didn’t have to worry so much about me too. You...sorry, we have enough on our plates.”  
Beverly smiled for the first time in hours. “Well,” she said ruefully. “That’s true.”  
After another lengthy silence, Beverly lifted her hands to rub her face, sighing deeply. In the subdued lighting of their quarters, Jean-Luc could see the lines of tiredness on her face and the dullness of her usually lustrous hair. As their unsuccessful quest to conceive wore on, with each failure, Beverly seemed to age just a little. Now, although still remarkably beautiful, Jean-Luc couldn’t help but see what the ravages of failure after failure had wrought. When she spoke it was barely audible.  
“I so dearly wish Deanna was here.”  
Needing to be with her, but not wishing to crowd her, Jean-Luc left his chair to join her on the sofa. He sat close, but not touching, but when he offered his hand, Beverly took it gratefully.  
“We used to talk, she and I, Jean-Luc,” She sighed. “About almost everything. I’ve known some good people in my time, dedicated, compassionate and caring people, but Deanna was that and so much more.”  
A single tear slipped free and slid down Beverly’s cheek, but her voice stayed soft and unaffected. “Did you know that she and Will had decided to marry?”  
Sadly shaking his head, Jean-Luc said softly, “No.”  
“Well, they had.” She snorted gently. “One of the last conversations I had with Dee was about how disgruntled Will was at the thought of having Lwaxana as his mother-in-law.”  
Expelling a soft breath through his nose, Jean-Luc shook his head. “I can only assume it was the pregnancy that brought Lwaxana into the fold.”  
“Yeah. She’d always liked Will, you know, but Dee had often told me how her mother constantly reminded her of her obligation to marry someone fitting to her station. You know, the ‘Heir to the Holy Rings’ etc?”  
“Poor Will,” Grumbled Jean-Luc. “Not only did he have to contend with Lwaxana, he had to take his place as Deanna’s consort. William T Troi. Doesn’t have quite the same ring to it, does it?”  
Beverly looked into her husband’s eyes and smiled, but there was so much sadness in her expression. “She really wanted you, you know.”  
At first confused, Jean-Luc frowned before his face suddenly cleared and he snorted. “Oh God yes, I knew. That woman was at times ferocious in her pursuit of me. There were times when I feared for my well being!”  
They both softly chuckled then Beverly sighed again, the sorrow never far away. Taking a deep breath, Jean-Luc asked gently, “Is there no one, Beverly? No one you trust enough for us to talk to?”  
Giving her husband a frank look, Beverly said steadily, “That’s a rather oddly worded question, Jean-Luc. You asked if I trust someone enough for us to talk to. I could ask you the same thing. Why should it be my choice?”  
Caught out and feeling trapped, Jean-Luc stood, but he didn’t release Beverly’s hand. Standing motionless for a few moments, staring at their joined hands, he slowly regained his seat.  
“What I want you to know, is that I would be willing to be completely open and honest with anyone you felt you could trust, because I trust your judgement. As for me, I’m afraid I can’t think of anyone I trust or feel comfortable with when discussing personal issues, apart from you or Deanna.”  
Their gaze remained locked until Beverly relented and smiled. “I understand Jean-Luc and I thank you for giving me such a wonderful gift.”  
Gently turning her hand over, Jean-Luc placed his other hand over hers. “What about Doctor Ogawa? She’s not a psychologist, but you’re good friends with her and you’ve served together a long time. Wasn’t it your sponsorship that enabled her to start her medical degree?”  
Tilting her head, Beverly kept her eyes on their hands. “Alyssa? I don’t think so, Jean-Luc. Yes, we’re good friends and now colleagues, but she was my head nurse for a very long time and although we’re now both doctors, she’s still my subordinate.” Before Jean-Luc could point out the obvious, Beverly smiled and shook her head. “Yes, I know that both of us out-rank all the counsellors and doctors on this ship, but Alyssa has been under my command for too long for me to feel able to unburden to her, Jean-Luc. At least with something so personal for both of us.”  
Jean-Luc frowned, trying to keep his words soft and non-judgemental.  
“I understand, but she knows what we’ve been going through, Beverly...she headed the team.”  
With a sigh, Beverly lifted her free hand and placed it on top of Jean-Luc’s. “That’s another reason, my love. She’s too close. I know that’s paradoxical, but overseeing each conception only then to have to see how we dealt with each failure and then to ask her to try and help us through the aftermath, well...don’t you think that’s asking too much? Like you said, she’s not a psychologist. And besides, I think we may be underestimating what it’s done to her, in fact the whole team.” She sighed. “I know for a fact they feel that they failed us.”  
Jean-Luc slowly leaned towards Beverly and she saw him and mirrored his actions until their foreheads gently met. Very softly, Jean-Luc said, “So that brings us back to Deanna.”  
“Yeah.” Said Beverly quietly. “Dear, Deanna. God, how I miss her.”  
They sat in silence for quite a while before Beverly said softly, and surprising Jean-Luc in the process, “Okay, let’s change the tune.”   
Lifting his head to peer at her, Jean-Luc frowned. “To what? I take it you’re not referring to music, there’s none playing.”  
Offering a small smile, Beverly extricated her hands and sat back, stretching her legs out, placing her stockinged feet on the coffee table and allowing her head to rest on the back of the sofa.  
“I want to go back to last night.”  
Frowning, Jean-Luc said tentatively, “To what, exactly?”  
With a half smile of mild amusement, Beverly said gently, “Nothing about your early sex life, Jean-Luc.”  
Adopting her relaxed pose, he crossed his ankles on the table and let his hands rest loosely clasped on his lower stomach. They both had their head uptilted, but their eyes were closed.  
“What then?”  
“I don’t know...I just want to recapture the mood. I want to think about something else.”  
“All right.”  
The following silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but Jean-Luc didn’t quite know what to say, so, as was usual for him, he said nothing. And just as predictably, it was Beverly who eventually broke the silence.  
“If I ask you a question, will you promise not to get upset?”  
He didn’t move his head or open his eyes, but he frowned. “How can I do that when I’ve not heard the question?”  
“Hmm. Okay, that’s fair.”  
Another short silence ensued before Jean-Luc said quietly, “Ask it anyway, Beverly, it’s obviously important to you.”  
“And if you get upset?”  
“I’ll live.”  
She snorted softly and he felt her gently nudge his shoulder, but he didn’t move his head or open his eyes.  
“Why did you propose, Jean-Luc?”  
That made him open his eyes and frown deeply, but he didn’t turn his head.  
“Ah...I thought it was the logical next step in our relationship.”  
By the slight alteration of her voice, Jean-Luc knew Beverly was now looking at him. Her tone was guarded.   
“The logical next step in our relationship?” she repeated. “That’s not very flattering, Jean-Luc.”  
“No, I don’t suppose it is.” He sighed and finally turned to look at her. “That didn’t come out quite the way I intended.”  
“Want to try again?”  
He smiled and nodded. “You recall from last night’s conversation, that our first time wasn’t what I’d ever thought it would be like?”  
“Uh huh.”  
“Well. It wasn’t just the sex.”   
Beverly could see he was struggling and gave him time to gather his thoughts.   
“I’d always fantasised our first time would be romantic, but that’s not to say I didn’t have some highly erotic non-romantic fantasies, it’s just thing is, in all my fantasies, I never imagined us as married.”  
Beverly’s eyebrows rose. “Really?”  
He gave her a long look. “You don’t think me capable of seeing you as anything but an unobtainable goddess?” It was said with a trace of amusement, relieving a worried Beverly.  
“Of course I do, but you have to admit, Jean-Luc, you’ve always had your nose buried in poetry and Shakespeare, I’d always thought of you as a romantic at heart.”  
Giving a slight tilt to his head, Jean-Luc pulled down the corners of his mouth. “Well, let that be a lesson to you, Beverly. Don’t judge any book by its cover.”  
“Noted.” She said with a wry smile. “So why weren’t we married?”  
That made Jean-Luc sigh. “I don’t know. In my fantasies, we were either a couple, or we were making love for the first time and that would lead us to becoming a couple, but we were never married.”  
“Okay, so my question stands. Why did you propose? Why was it so logical?”  
Lifting his hands to give form to his words, Jean-Luc said, “Well, it was as if we’d come full circle. Thirty-two years, Beverly. That’s a hell of a long time and for me a lot of living in endless fantasy. Our first time, in the parked runabout, I thought, even though it was incredible, that it was a disaster.”  
“But...”  
He held up one hand. “I know, it wasn’t, but when you came to my quarters some days later, I felt such joy, Beverly, so relieved and when we made love for the first time that night, I knew I wanted to marry you. Somehow I felt it completed our journey and opened the way for our new path...together.”  
“But Jean-Luc...three weeks after our first time? Don’t you think that was a little soon?”  
He smiled; his eyes soft and tender. “Three weeks and thirty-two years. Oh, and by the way, I don’t consider our first time to be the sex in the runabout. For me, in my heart our first time was that night some days after, when you came to me and we made love.”  
Beverly thought about that, idly running her thumbnail over her teeth.  
“Okay, I can see all that, but still...marriage? At our ages why do you feel it necessary?”  
Narrowing his eyes, Jean-Luc tilted his head and said quietly, “Instead of answering that, let me ask you something.”  
Seeing her give a small nod, he said, “If you had any reservations or concerns, why did you say yes?”  
Taking his hand, Beverly tried to ease his worry.  
“I can tell you with all honesty, I have no reservations or concerns...now.”  
“But you did then?”  
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Yes.”  
“Then why did you accept?”  
“That’s hard to answer.”  
“Try.” His tone was a little hard.  
“Okay.” Beverly’s nervousness was seeping through and she began to fiddle with her hands. “I don’t deny we love each other...God, we’ve loved each other for so damned long! And finding out we’re sexually compatible was a very pleasant discovery, but marriage is a formal declaration that I sort of thought was unnecessary. I guess what I’m trying to say is not only did you surprise me but I was kind of...offended? No, that’s not the right word. Maybe I felt like you were wanting to...God, I don’t know. Tie me to you?”  
She stared down at her restless hands and grimaced. “Your proposal dredged up memories of nanna’s attempts to confine me. Not physically but emotionally and I got cold feet.”  
Trying to understand, but still finding himself angry and hurt, Jean-Luc did his best to keep his tone even.  
“Yet you accepted. Beverly, you say you’re not feeling concerned and that you now have no reservations and I’m very happy to hear that, but if you hadn’t come to feel that way, would you have still married me?”  
Her voice was small. “I don’t know.”  
Still doing his best to try and understand, Jean-Luc asked, “Why didn’t you say anything to me? Why didn’t you tell me?”  
A tear overflowed her eye and ran unhindered down her cheek. “Jean-Luc, you have been hurt so many times, mainly by me, and I just couldn’t bring myself to hurt you again.”  
Anger made his tone harsh. “So you were willing to enter into a marriage you didn’t want just to spare my feelings?”  
Shaking her head, Beverly wiped at her tears. “No. I did want to marry you, Jean-Luc, but I couldn’t help but be...scared.”  
He sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose. “It always comes back to that, doesn’t it. You mentioned it last night. You know, Beverly, we’ve had relationships with other people, people we’ve cared about, even loved, well, I don’t know about you, but my relationships with other women didn’t last because they never measured up to you. Even though I had no idea what you’d be like to share a relationship with, good old fear invaded my head and destroyed anything I might have had with those women.”  
He reached for her hand and lifted it to his lips, brushing a delicate kiss over the skin.  
“I think we have reached a time and place in our lives where we can dispense with fear, Beverly. Yes, these past months have been a terrible time, a tragic trial, but surely if nothing else it has proven that our love is strong enough to weather the storm? I said it last night and I’ll say it again. We have each other and our love. That is all I need. What I need to know is do you feel the same?”  
Looking into his eyes, Beverly smiled with trembling lips. Her reply was whispered, but he heard it clearly  
“Yes.”  
Sighing with heartfelt relief, Jean-Luc lifted his arm and Beverly settled within his warm embrace.  
“J’Taime, mon coeur, J’Taime.”  
“I love you too, Jean-Luc and I’m sorry I don’t tell you more often.”  
A long silence settled and Jean-Luc was about to suggest they retire for the night when Beverly said softly, “Do you know what I thought this morning, just as we were leaving our quarters?”  
“No”  
“I wondered if we’d conceived again.”  
Pain lanced through Jean-Luc, Beverly’s tone was so desolate.  
“It was automatic, and the accompanying surge of hope almost floored me.” She snorted, but it was a sad, defeated sound. “Then I remembered and I wanted to cry. How long has it been, Jean-Luc? How many months have we been trying?”  
“Twenty-one months.”  
She lifted her head and peered at him. “My God, that’s more than two full-term pregnancies. Are you sure? We had so many failures.”  
He didn’t want to talk about it, but it seemed to be important to Beverly. “Once it became clear we couldn’t manage it naturally, pharmaceutical accelerators were used to promote more mature ovum production.”  
“Oh, that’s right.” She shook her head. “It’s a blur, Jean-Luc...a long agonising blur.”  
Gently lifting her chin, Jean-Luc looked into her eyes and said, “Shall I tell you how beautiful you looked on our wedding day?”  
Shaking her head distractedly, Beverly said sharply, “No. I want to know how many times...”  
He tightened his embrace. “Don’t, Beverly...let it go...just leave it alone.”  
More silence followed and Jean-Luc worried about his wife. Slowly she sighed and lifted her head.  
“That dress...”  
His hopes rising, Jean-Luc said gently, “Your wedding dress?”  
“Yes. Dee and I spent hours we really didn’t have choosing it. Everything had happened so fast. The ship was at McKinley, you proposed and then within two hours I was sitting with you in the Mayor’s office in LaBarre meeting the celebrant.”  
Jean-Luc chuckled quietly. “Well, while you spent those hours choosing your dress, I was at the château organising the workers to create the arbour.”  
“It was lovely too.” Tilting her head, Beverly sighed. “Another one to miss, Jean-Luc.”  
“Yes.” He agreed. “Marie would’ve been very happy for us.”  
“Are you aware of any other Picard marriages at the château?”  
That made his eyebrows rise in thought. “Ah...no, not off the top of my head. My parents were married in LaBarre, but Robert and Marie were married in a large, very ornate ceremony in Paris. But I’m sure at some stage in the past someone from my family would have.”  
“So your parents and Robert. Religious or secular?”  
“My parents attended church, the Unified Church of Earth, but Robert was secular. The ceremony for his and Marie’s wedding was a sort of mixture, because Marie was a UCE adherent.”  
“Unusual these days.”  
“Hmm, another thing you can put down to living in a provincial environment. Old superstitions. In fact, being secular was about the only thing Robert and I ever agreed on.” He smiled but Beverly saw his eyes were hard. “Robert siding with me over that was the one and only time I ever remember my father giving Robert the same kind of disdainful look I’d always thought he reserved for me alone. It was very satisfying.”  
“So...moving on, you knew I was secular so you chose a celebrant from your home village to marry us at your ancestral home.”  
He lowered his head and frowned, trying to see under Beverly’s brow. “I’m not sure what you’re trying to say. I had asked you if you agreed.”  
Smiling tenderly, Beverly lifted his hand and kissed it. “Of course I agreed, Jean-Luc. I know I’ve told you I was scared, but I was also giddy with excitement. Not many people marry these days, certainly the commitment of marriage, both emotional and legal is taken far more seriously than it once was and the thought that you wanted that with me, despite my stupid fear, was very intoxicating.” She grinned, and even her sad eyes gleamed. “And then there was the dress.”  
Jean-Luc sat back, easing Beverly to join him. She rested her head on his shoulder and placed the flat of her palm on his chest so she could feel its vibration when he spoke.  
“Ah yes...that dress. It was Will who very quietly let me know you’d stepped around the roses. I turned and it wasn’t until Will said sotto voce, “Close your mouth, sir.” That I realised I was gaping. It clung to you, Beverly, accentuating every luscious curve that I’d been kissing and caressing only a few hours before. And the colour! I’d never seen anything like it. It changed as you moved. It was as if the dress was part of you...a second skin.” He snorted and grinned, his dark eyes glittering in the soft light. “Do you know what Will said to let me know you were approaching?”  
With her gaze fixed on her other hand that rested comfortably on his thigh, Beverly said quietly, “No.”  
“Hmph.” The softly amused grunt made Beverly’s head move on his shoulder. “He said...Red alert, shields up!”  
Beverly’s soft chuckle was a balm to Jean-Luc’s soul. Wistfully, Beverly said, “I don’t think I’d ever seen you in a dinner suit. A tux, yes, I believe a top hat and tails once, but not a dinner suit. I was so surprised. God, Jean-Luc, you looked so handsome, so elegant.”  
“Well, Beverly, I’m afraid there haven’t been words coined yet to describe how utterly beautiful you looked. That dress...Jesus...You know how I told you that when I saw you in the runabout, that I wasn’t going to be able to control my physical reaction to seeing you?”  
“Mmm.”  
“Same thing. I felt myself getting hard, and for several terrible seconds I feared I wasn’t going to be able to stop it.”  
“So how did you?”  
He harrumphed gain and closed his eyes in remembered embarrassment. Her curiosity aroused, Beverly shifted her head until she could whisper in his ear.  
“Come on, tell me.”  
His one word reply came out in a short explosion of breath. “Deanna!”  
Beverly was so surprised she lifted her head, pulled back and gaped incredulously. “Deanna? How? What the hell did she do to help you with that particular problem?”  
Had the lighting been better, Beverly would’ve seen Jean-Luc’s blush.  
“Beverly, I think she was well aware of your fears...your reservations, but rather than tackle you, she concentrated on me. It’s my belief she wanted to make certain I was sure, that I wasn’t...I don’t know...clutching at straws. The thing is, I’d become aware of her gentle scrutiny ever since our rather torrid time in the runabout and although it irritated me and I knew I could block her if I so chose, I knew she had our best interests at heart so I allowed it. So on our wedding day, she was ‘tuned in’ and when she felt what was happening to me, she sent a subliminal message that assisted me in gaining control.”  
“Yes, but how? You’re not telepathic or empathic.”  
Taking a large breath, Jean-Luc shrugged. “I first became aware that Deanna could...be a presence ...in my mind not long after my mind-meld with Sarek. At first I was very angry, I felt it was a violation, even though I possessed the ability to shut her out, but it wasn’t until I mentioned it to Will that he told me that Deanna only did this with those she felt closest too.”  
Beverly began to protest making Jean-Luc put two fingers against her lips. “Let me finish. You feel as Deanna’s best friend she would’ve used this...technique with you. Well, she did.”  
Again, Beverly tried to deny the claim, shaking her head and trying to dislodge his fingers. He wouldn’t let her.  
“Beverly, think. Over the last five...six years you’ve been able to overcome some pretty tumultuous events including your conflicting feelings about me. But it was during the early stages of our failed attempts to successfully conceive that Deanna helped you the most. Don’t you remember how much harder it was after she died? It wasn’t just the continuing failures and our grief over her death, it was the loss of her subliminal support that really took the greatest toll. After her death, you and I became more and more less able to cope.”  
Gently guiding her head back to his shoulder, Jean-Luc whispered, “She’s been with us for a long time, Beverly, inside us, and now we have to learn how to live without her.”  
“Are we lost, Jean-Luc?” Those softly spoken words nearly broke his heart.  
“No, not as long as we have each other. But the road ahead will be hard. Time, Beverly, time will help...it always does.”  
She extricated herself from his embrace and rose slowly, holding out her hand and waiting until he too was standing. Placing both hands on his chest, Beverly looked into her husband’s eyes and said, “Will you hold me tonight, Jean-Luc?”  
“Yes. We’ll hold each other.”  
Once again the couple approached the coming night knowing sleep would be difficult.

 

Will Riker sat on the edge of his large bed, Charlotte cradled in his left arm while his right hand held the bottle his daughter suckled contentedly. It had taken some time for him to be able to study the little baby’s face without succumbing to tears, but with Patrick Adams’s help, he’d slowly overcome his crippling grief to take his place as Charlotte’s father.  
His eyes roamed slowly over her perfect features, taking in her black eyes, now half-slitted in an almost drunken daze, her flawless pale skin and the utter perfection of her tiny hands that held the bottle. The only thing he could see of himself in his little girl was her straight, brown hair. That and the fact she was long, certainly longer in body length for a baby her age and gender. He snorted softly, thinking how miffed Deanna would’ve been to know her daughter was destined to tower over her just like her father.  
“So, my little girl, what are you going to do with your life? You have so much ahead of you. In ancient times, on my home world, Earth, there was an old saying. ‘The World Is Your Oyster.’ Well, things have changed. Now, little Charlotte, the galaxy is your oyster.”  
He chuckled softly at that, the soft, hitching sob quickly brought under control. When he felt able, he said softly, “I will tell you everything I know about your mother, Charlotte, I have vids, stills and...” He smirked. “You have a grandmother! You’re so lucky, little girl. You have feet in two worlds. Such a rich and varied cultural history you have as your heritage. Do you realise you’re eventually going to be the holder of the Sacred Chalice of Rixx? The heir to the Holy Rings of Betazed and you’re a daughter of the Fifth House? And you’re only three months old! Just think of what you might achieve once you’re one year old!”  
Seeing the she’d finished the bottle, Will gently removed the teat from her plump little lips and eased her ever so carefully onto his broad shoulder. As he gently rubbed and patted her back, his deep voice rumbled, “When things have settled down, I’ll ask your uncle Jean-Luc to let you sit in the big chair. You might as well get used to it now.” He chuckled again. “And so should he.”  
It wasn’t until Will had put the sleeping baby back in her cot in the nursery that he went back into his bedroom to face the emptiness of his bed. Like the couple not too far away, he dreaded the nights. Deanna would come to him in his dreams, but he could never make her stay. And in the morning he would quietly weep.

Three weeks had passed and life on board the Enterprise went on, business as usual for some, considerably more difficult for others.  
Jean-Luc ended his shift feeling tired and unsettled, something he was becoming accustomed to. While walking through the corridors of his ship he maintained his usual façade, exuding quiet authority and calm control. Having passed yet another crew member who nodded respectfully and offered a quietly spoken, “Captain.”, Jean-Luc winced inwardly at hearing the sympathy in the single word. There were times when he just wanted to scream, to yell and curse and to order everyone to leave him alone. But of course none of that was possible and his rational mind calmly informed him it would do no good anyway, so, along with everything else, he suppressed it.  
Knowing Beverly felt exactly the same way helped, although he knew it was harder for her as she worked in the very facility where they had spent so much tense, sad and ultimately futile time. At least he spent most of his shifts on the bridge, or to be exact, in his ready room, insulated and wounded, trying his best to heal.  
It was with heartfelt relief that he reached their quarters and he was further pleased when he found Beverly was already home. She wasn’t in the living area, but her discarded uniform was and she called out from the bedroom,  
“Pour me a drink will, you Jean-Luc? I’ll be out in a minute.”  
Raising his eyebrows, Jean-Luc went to the drinks cabinet and opened it, frowning as he studied the collection of bottles. Muttering softly, he said, “Pour me a drink, Jean-Luc? Very well, Beverly, but what, pray tell, would you prefer?”  
Rather than call out his enquiry, he lifted one shoulder and tilted his head.  
“Hmm, time I think for a unilateral decision. What would I prefer?”  
He was just putting the glasses on the coffee table when Beverly appeared at his side. She bent slightly forward and narrowed her eyes. “Cognac?”  
“Yes.”Said Jean-Luc decisively. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted so, after careful consideration I chose cognac.”  
Pulling down the corners of her mouth, Beverly tilted her head from side-to-side. “Well, it’s different, I’ll give you that. I can’t say I’ve ever had cognac before dinner.”  
He snorted softly and leaned to place a soft kiss on her temple. “I’ll go and change.”  
“Don’t be long.”  
He grinned over his shoulder. “I won’t.”  
Five minutes later they were in their customary seats, Jean-Luc in his favourite chair, Beverly reclining on the sofa. Sipping his brandy, Jean-Luc ran his eyes over his wife, noting that she was making a slow but perceptible recovery. Her hair wasn’t quite so dull and her skin not so pale. However her eyes still held sorrow and he wondered if that would ever change. Then he reminded himself it had only been three weeks and comforted himself in the knowledge that time would do its job and slowly heal them both.  
Satisfied with his covert scrutiny, he sat back, crossed his legs and took another long sip, closing his eyes.  
“Anything from command, yet?” By her tone, Jean-Luc knew she didn’t really expect a positive answer.  
He sighed and pursed his lips. “No. They keep sending, but with only coordinates to go on, they’re broadcasting without a specific target. As you know, coordinates into unknown space doesn’t mean that there’s actually something there. It could be a meeting point in empty apace just as easily as a planet. Command is aiming the subspace messages at the coordinates, but the truth is we don’t know if there’s anyone there to hear them.”  
He opened his eyes and gently swirled his drink. “I don’t envy you this mission, Beverly. First Contacts are always iffy, even when you have some idea what you’re getting into, but this...you’re going in blind.” He sighed heavily. “I can’t say I’m very happy about it.”  
Beverly was lying on her side, her upper body resting on the cushions at the arm of the sofa. Like her husband, her eyes had been closed. “I’m not either, Jean-Luc, in fact...and I wouldn’t admit this to anyone but you...I’m a little nervous.”  
“Understandable.” He demurred. “I can only hope that once contact is made, we get some intel before you do whatever it is they want you to do.”  
Beverly was about to say more when the door chime sounded. Having both been on the gamma shift, it was nearly twenty-thirty hours and most crew would be either on duty or in their quarters. Raising one eyebrow, Jean-Luc said with a touch of irritation, “Are you expecting someone?”  
Shaking her head, Beverly too was slightly annoyed. “No. You?”  
Instead of answering her, Jean-Luc said flatly, “Come.”  
The doors sighed open and a figure stepped into the room, but with the interior lighting subdued, the glare from outside momentarily hid the visitor’s identity. When the person made no move to come further inside, Jean-Luc frowned and said, “Come in.” Accentuating the barely disguised command with a curt wave of one hand.  
Once the doors closed, the couple saw the ship’s counsellor. Warily, Jean-Luc said, “Lieutenant.”  
Counsellor Patrick Adams felt a little uneasy. He had been a counsellor for some years and was highly qualified and well experienced, but having read both the official service records and his predecessor’s files, he knew he was about to face two very private, formidable people, one the most senior officer on board, the other head of her department. And of course, they both outranked him by miles. Summoning a warm smile, Patrick said with an apologetic note, “I know it’s a little late, I hope I’m not disturbing either of you?”  
Casting a quick look at Beverly, who Jean-Luc noticed had sat up; Jean-Luc offered a small smile and shook his head.  
“Not at all, Lieutenant. What can I do for you?”  
The use of his rank, rather than his position was telling and Patrick knew he’d have to handle the next few minutes very carefully.  
“Actually, Captain, I thought it time I came to see you.” He cast Beverly a warm smile. “Both of you.”  
“I see.” said a now closed captain. “About what?”  
Risking his CO’s displeasure, instead of answering, Patrick asked, “May I sit, please, sir?”  
His frown deepening by the moment, Jean-Luc merely nodded. Beverly moved a little further towards the end of the sofa, putting more distance between her and their guest, another significant gesture. Having perched on the edge of the seat, Patrick placed his hands on his meay thighs and smiled.   
“These many last months have been very difficult for you both. I know you were both close to Counsellor Troi, you served together for a very long time and I’ve only been aboard for three months, but I had hoped you might come to me; your burden must be almost unbearable. However you’ve chosen not to and that leaves me with but one choice. I must come to you.”  
Again Jean-Luc’s eyes flicked to Beverly’s then back to the counsellor.  
“I feel you may be making an erroneous assumption, Lieutenant.” Jean-Luc’s voice was soft, but the underlying irritation was clear.  
Taking a steadying breath, Patrick schooled his features and asked equitably, “And what is that, Captain?”  
“That we require your assistance. I can assure you we do not.”  
The slightly overweight man began to sweat, but as uneasy as he was, he wasn’t about to either be intimidated or cowed.  
“With respect, sir, I disagree.”  
Jean-Luc uncrossed his legs with slow grace, like an uncoiling snake. He sat up and pierced Patrick with a stony glare. His voice was icy. “I beg your pardon?”  
Out of the corner of his eye, Jean-Luc saw Beverly lift one hand in an almost imperceptible gesture. Ceding control to her, he sat back, but his dark, glittering eyes never left the counsellor.  
“What the captain means, Lieutenant, is that we’re doing fine on our own.”  
Patrick turned his head to give the doctor his full attention but he could still feel his captain’s cold glare.  
“Doctor Crusher, as a medical professional you must be aware of the very serious ramifications of withholding or suppressing strong emotions, especially when the emotions are brought about by something as tragic, demoralising and depressing as what you and your husband have endured. And, given the length of time this terrible situation continued, I have to believe that both of you must be suffering.”   
Beverly opened her mouth to reply when she was stunned to be interrupted. “Please, doctor.” Patrick inwardly winced at the unintended note of desperation in his voice. He made an effort to quell it. “I’ve read Counsellor Troi’s notes; I know she’d been helping both of you, so not only have you been without counselling since her death, you’ve had to deal with the grief her death caused as well. Surely you must see that you both need my help?”  
Jean-Luc had heard enough. He sat up and was about to dismiss the man when Beverly stopped him with a shake of her head. Angry, but willing to accede to her wishes, he held his tongue.  
“Counsellor, while it’s true the captain and I have been through a very difficult time, I am willing to admit you have a point. People in our situation can and do need help, but the captain and I aren’t quite ready yet to allow anyone in...not yet, but if I give you an assurance that we will come to you when we’re ready, will you accept that?”  
The fact the she’d used his position rather than his rank, cheered the well-meaning man. Steeling himself, Patrick turned his head to seek his captain’s opinion. All Jean-Luc would do was give a slow, silent nod, but it was clear he wasn’t happy. Still, it was not only better than he hoped for; he knew it was all he was going to get. For now.  
Offering a smile of understanding and gratitude, Patrick stood and gave a small bow.  
“Thank you, thank you both. Good night, sirs.”  
After the doors had closed the silence that followed was brittle. Jean-Luc tossed back his cognac and bared his teeth. With a long breath, he rose and went to the replicator, saying tightly,  
“What would you prefer for dinner?”  
Instead of answering immediately, Beverly got up and went to him, standing behind him and winding her arms around his waist, her forehead resting on his neck.   
“Don’t be angry, Jean-Luc. It was bound to happen. I’m surprised he let it go as long as he did.”  
With a deep sigh, Jean-Luc lowered his head. “I know.” His tone was bleak. “I had hoped he might let it go, in fact as time went by without his appearance, I’d begun to convince myself that we’d got away with it.”  
Beverly bumped her head on his neck and snorted. “Ostrich syndrome.”  
He actually chuckled at that. “I happen to like the sand around my ears.”  
They let the matter drop and ate a quiet meal, once again retiring to the living area, this time with mugs of coffee. Jean-Luc had meant to sit in his chair, but Beverly patted the sofa so he took her invitation and joined her. He propped himself at one end, having toed off his shoes, his legs parted and lying along the seat. Beverly lay between his legs with her back against his chest, her head resting on his shoulder.  
In quiet peace they sipped their drinks until their mugs were empty. Jean-Luc collected both and put them on the low table. Just as he straightened, Beverly said mildly, “Jean-Luc...have you ever had a virgin?”  
Looking down at Beverly, a deep frown on his face, Jean-Luc’s tone was indignant. “What is it with you and my former sex life?”  
She huffed a chuckle and shrugged. “I don’t know, I just find it really interesting. I mean I’m curious. It’s not my fault you have a reputation.”  
An exasperated breath blew out of Jean-Luc and he shook his head. “Do you really think the word ‘had’ is...appropriate? It sounds so...tawdry.”  
He didn’t see her roll her eyes. “Okay, let me ask you another way. Jean-Luc, has a virgin ever given her wonderful gift to you?”  
His tone became very dry. “Now you’re mocking me.”  
“Just answer the question.” Beverly’s tone was impatient.  
He sighed, but remained silent, which only served to pique Beverly’s curiosity further. Twisting slightly, she managed to look up at him. “Well?”  
This time it was he who rolled his eyes. “Oh, very well. Yes!”  
But he said nothing else.  
“Jesus, Jean-Luc! It’s like having to use fourchette a escargots to get information out of you!”  
His eyebrows rose and his tone was mildly amused and appreciative. “Your French pronunciation is improving, Beverly, I’m impressed, especially considering you detest escargot.”  
Not put off in the least, Beverly shook her head. “Uh uh, no...that’s not going to work. Why? Why won’t you tell me?”  
All traces of amusement vanished and Jean-Luc sighed, his eyes closing. “Because it happened only four months before we became a couple and the woman involved is still serving on the ship.”  
There followed a very tense silence, broken when Beverly asked askance, “How old is she?”  
Giving his wife a hard look of admonishment, Beverly scrunched up one corner of her mouth and shrugged. “Sorry.” Then she smiled. “If you don’t give me any information that might identify her, will you tell me?”  
He looked into Beverly’s eyes and just seeing the spark of delight that resided there was enough to tip the balance. To keep the perpetual sorrow away, he would tell her anything. Taking a deep breath he nodded. “Very well, but Beverly, if you ever figure out who she is, you must give me your word that you’ll never let her know that you know.”  
The doctor grinned making Jean-Luc scowl. “Please, Beverly.” He said quietly.  
Placing her hand dramatically over her heart, Beverly said firmly, “You have my word.” Then she grinned again. “So...what happened?” As Jean-Luc began, Beverly snuggled into his embrace.  
“I first noticed her, oh months ago, at a recital in the lounge. At that time she was playing in one of the ship’s string quartets and I immediately recognised her talent. Then every now and then she would play a solo and I became more and more interested. Not in her, but her music, her prodigious talent.”  
“Is she pretty?”  
“Be quiet.” He regathered his thoughts, mildly affronted, but answered anyway. “No, not really, but even though she’s sort of plain looking, she has a lovely warm expression. The more I heard her play, the more I wanted to hear, so I checked the ship’s entertainment net and finding nothing of hers there, I accessed the bulletin boards, but no, nothing there either and I found that odd. By then I knew her name and rank and I’d read her service record. I was surprised to find that she was still a lieutenant at 38. Her record was all right, nothing remarkable about it. She performs her duties satisfactorily, she’s never been on report and it slowly dawned on me that this woman lacked ambition. She was simply content with what she had, with what she was doing. So, wanting to hear more of her music, I decided to go to her quarters to see if she had any private recordings she might allow me to borrow.”  
Beverly looked up and smiled. “Yes? And?”  
“Well, as you know, lieutenants share quarters, so I checked the duty roster and when I’d found she’d just finished her shift I went to her cabin. When I was granted access, I found her across the room, her back to me as she was placing her instrument back in its case. Without turning around she said...Koult’s just gone on duty, he won’t be back until the end of gamma shift. Jean-Luc recounted. He then went on,  
“When I spoke her entire body went rigid.”  
“What did you say?” Beverly asked breathlessly.  
“Only that I’d dropped by to see her. I don’t know if it was my voice she recognised or simply the fact that someone other than her room-mate was in the quarters with her, but she spun around and almost quivered at attention. I mean, yes, I’ve encountered that kind of reaction from very young and inexperienced crew, but not a mature woman who’d been on board for some time. So I said, at ease, please. But she barely relaxed at all. By now I was feeling very awkward, so I just told her why I was there and she managed to tell me that she hadn’t made any recordings. So I left and to be perfectly frank, I was glad to get out of there. She was like a frightened rabbit being stared at by a hungry fox!”  
Beverly quietly giggled. “Big bad scary Jean-Luc!”  
“Shut up, Beverly. Do you want to hear this or not?”  
“Yes! Go on.”  
“Right. About three weeks went by, then one afternoon I was enjoying some time off and my door chimed. I was very pleased, thinking...hoping...it was you. So I called out happily, come. You can imagine my surprise when the doors opened to reveal the woman. I regathered my composure and invited her in. She came very reluctantly and when she was close enough...but only just...she held out her hand. Now so far, she’d not said a word. I saw a chip in her hand and I took it, saying gently, what’s this? Her voice was very soft, I could hardly hear her, but she told me she’d made some recordings for me. Well, of course I was delighted. In an effort to try to get her to relax, I invited her to stay and have a hot drink while we listened to the recording together. She blanched, Beverly! I actually saw the colour drain from her face. But she seemed to get herself together because, very tentatively she accepted.  
“We’d been sitting quietly sipping our drinks while we listened, and I was totally enraptured, my God she can play, when I suddenly realised she’d spoken. She’d asked me about my flute. It was on the coffee table as I’d been playing it before she arrived. I told her a very brief history about it then I suggested we might play together.”  
Beverly giggled lasciviously again, making Jean-Luc sigh. “Must you?”  
“Sorry”  
“She said that we might do that, but by then the recording had finished, so she got to her feet and smiled. It was the first time I’d seen her smile and it changed her face completely. She thanked me for my hospitality and refused to take the recording, telling me I could keep it. Then just as she turned to leave, she hesitated, turned back and, whilst blushing furiously, said very softly...I find you very attractive, captain. And she left. I was...bemused. Flattered, yes, but nonplussed.  
“I saw her at a few more recitals and I noticed she never stayed afterwards. Whether on her own or in a quartet after the recital was over, she’d accept the applause, bow and leave. At first I thought it odd, but then I decided it was sad. She was obviously very, very shy.  
“Some weeks went by and I was on gamma shift so I got back to my quarters rather late. Again, when my door chimed I hoped it was you, but no, it was the woman again and she had her instrument case. This time she came in a little more confidently and like before she had made a new recording for me, only this time she informed me it was music appropriate for us to play together. She was in civvies, so I said, in an attempt to make her welcome, I’ll go change, how about you replicate some dinner. I honestly didn’t think she’d accept.  
“I didn’t see her expression, I thought if it was too much, she wouldn’t be there when I came back out of my bedroom, but happily she was. So we ate dinner and I opened a bottle of wine and we came to sit here, in the living area. The chip was loaded and we got our respective instruments and eventually enjoyed an hour and a half of the most exquisite music. When we’d played enough, I thought she’d leave, but she didn’t. I could see by her growing unease that she wanted to say something to me and bearing in mind what she’d already confessed, I wasn’t too sure I wanted to hear it, but I couldn’t just send her away, so I braced myself.  
“It took a while but she finally got up the courage to speak. She told me that she was a virgin and that she really wanted to experience what sex was like. I still wasn’t sure where this was going, but I found out soon enough. She looked at me with such open trust and confidence I knew she’d chosen me as her first sexual partner.  
“She must have seen my panic and reluctance so she went on to quickly explain that she wasn’t seeking a relationship, nor did she expect anything from me other than what she requested and that she’d chosen me for several reasons. She was attracted to me; she knew I’d respect her, she had heard of my...reputation and that she knew I would keep her confidence. She stressed that she wanted an experienced and gentle lover for her first time and she couldn’t think of a better person than me.  
“Of course I refused. I did it as gently as I could, I recognised just how very vulnerable she was at the time, it must have taken extraordinary courage to ask me and I had no intention of hurting her feelings. I explained that I was, well...committed to someone,” He looked down at Beverly, kissing her temple. “That was you, by the way, but Beverly, she beseeched me, she actually begged. She asked me to put myself in her shoes. Being 38 years old and never had sex, never had an orgasm, not by any means, not even in a dream... Jesus, she’d never even been kissed! Of course I asked her why she hadn’t explored her own body and she alluded to an unpleasant experience when she was young, but Beverly, she was so...I don’t know...desperate...no, that isn’t the right word. She was pleading with me to grant her a fundamental human experience and I...I...gave up. I thought if I could bring some joy into that woman’s life...perhaps even set her on a path of personal discovery and happiness, why not? I weighed the consequences, I considered you and what it might mean if you found out, but Beverly, ultimately I found I couldn’t say no.  
“But before I consented, I made it perfectly clear, absolutely clear; it would be a one off. However long it took, whether it was one hour or all night, that was it. Never again...ever. She agreed.”  
He lapsed into silence and Beverly scowled. “That’s it? That’s all you’re going to tell me?”  
“Beverly...”  
“Oh, come on, Jean-Luc. You haven’t even told me how you were going to go about it.”  
“Jesus, Beverly! Can’t a man have some privacies?”  
“No! Come on...”  
“God...” He let out an explosive breath. “Your curiosity is going to get you in trouble one of these days.”  
“Yeah, yeah.” She replied, rolling her eyes.  
He rolled his eyes in return and huffed, before making an effort to control his exasperation as he began.  
“I started by asking her what she knew. She told me she’d studied the human sexuality files on the computer very carefully, so she knew what was involved and she’d seen the vids so she had all the relevant information, she’d just not done it. It was kind of awkward at first especially when she kept calling me captain and sir so I asked her to call me Jean-Luc and although she went as red as a beetroot it seemed to help and I must admit she did an admirable job of pronouncing my name correctly. We went into the bedroom and she began to undress. Her hands were shaking so I took over and where her skin was exposed I was careful to gently kiss and caress. When she was clad in nothing but her bra and panties, I said very softly, now you undress me. I was surprised at how quickly she learned. She did everything I’d done to her and she seemed to enjoy it.”  
“Were you hard?”  
He didn’t admonish the interruption. “Not fully. I took her face in my hands and kissed her...just lightly. She liked that and leaned forward for more. So the next kiss was a little more insistent, I feathered my tongue over her lips and she got the idea straight away. When our tongues met she gasped. I waited a little while then deepened the kiss and began to run my hands up and down her back, occasionally cupping her backside and gently pulling her against me.  
“When I undid her bra, she stepped back to allow me to ease it off her. Her breasts weren’t very big, but her nipples were hard so I kissed her again and gently rolled one between my fingers. She responded really well to that and let a very quiet moan escape into my mouth.   
“I guided her to the bed and eased her down making sure she was comfortable. Very softly I asked her to relax and concentrate on what she was about to feel...the sensations. I asked her not to think, just feel. Then I lay beside her and gently ran my fingertips over her skin. Beverly...she was so responsive! Her muscles actually fluttered under her skin, it was so erotic, so enthralling to see. Considering the circumstances it may sound like a cliché, but it was like playing an instrument. Everywhere I touched, her body responded.  
“We kissed, becoming more and more passionate. Her arousal was so unlike anything I’d seen before. It wasn’t that it was different per se, but everything seemed to happen in unpredictable stages. Even when I smelled her arousal it seemed...I don’t know...different. Anyway, eventually I placed my hand over her sex and she gasped loudly. I thought I’d gone too fast, but she soon let me know she wanted more. I rose up and very gently removed her panties. Then I asked her to watch as I took my briefs off. And yes, I was now hard. She frowned when she looked at my erection, especially as I eased my foreskin back but I smiled and told her it would be all right. Again I saw that implicit trust in her eyes and it nearly unmanned me, Beverly. It suddenly dawned on me exactly how big a responsibility I had taken on. If I got it wrong, I could do irreparable damage to her, emotional damage that she might not recover from. Now I know that probably sounds hideously conceited, but that’s how I felt at the time.  
“I reached over to the nightstand and got my tube of lubricant.”  
To Beverly’s raised eyebrows he sighed and said, “I’ll tell you later.”  
“So, I gently took hold of her ankles and parted her legs, bending them at the knee, before kneeling between them. I took some time to lean over her to tongue and suck her nipples until she was softly moaning and then I gently eased her labia open and slid one finger through her, just brushing her clit very softly. That was received very well, so I kissed my way down her body and replaced my finger with my tongue. That was received with even more enthusiasm!” He chuckled softly. “It felt so good, Beverly, to bring her such new pleasures. While my tongue was busy, I ran the tip of my finger around the entrance of her vagina. It took quite some time, but she began to shudder and her hips began to buck, so I increased the force of my tongue on her clit and inserted my finger inside her, but only as deep as the hymen. I’d only slid it in and out a few times when she came. I tried to make it a double and I was partially successful, but her second orgasm was more like a strong aftershock.   
“I left her and went back up the bed to take her in my arms while she recovered. That happened quite quickly and she was delighted and very keen to continue. She reached for my penis, but I took her hand and kissed it, telling her that everything was for her and to not worry about me. So I went about arousing her again and returned to kneeling between her legs. This time I used the lube and made sure my penis was well covered and I put some inside her with my fingers. Again I spent a considerable amount of time getting her as aroused as I could, to a point where she asked me to do it. I placed one hand beside her head and supported myself on that arm and I took my penis in the other hand and, after sliding the head through her folds, I very gently introduced it into her. She was very tight and she tensed but I could see her effort to relax. I went in slowly until I met her hymen. Then I stopped.”  
“Why? Why did you stop?”  
He sighed. “Beverly, I’d never made love to a virgin before. I didn’t know how much pressure to apply, whether one just pushed until it broke or used gentle but increasingly steady pressure. And I certainly didn’t want to cause undue pain.  
“At that stage I did tell her that it would probably hurt, but I had absolutely no idea how much or for how long.”  
“So what did you do?”  
“I compromised. With very gentle thrusts I pushed against her hymen a little harder each time. I could see she was uncomfortable and I almost stopped, but she opened her eyes and smiled, nodding and letting me know it was all right. I continued and eventually I pushed hard and it just...broke. She let out a little cry and I froze. She squeezed her eyes shut and screwed up her face and we stayed motionless for some minutes. I was so worried I nearly lost my erection, but she relaxed and opened her eyes again and smiled. So very slowly I pushed inside. God, she was so tight. It took a while before I was completely immersed, but once I was she sighed and really surprised me by saying in perfect French, My God, Jean-Luc but it feels incredible.  
“With that encouragement, I began to carefully and slowly slide in and out and to help overcome any discomfort she might’ve been experiencing, I used my now free hand to tease her clit. Like the first time it took quite a while but eventually she began to pant and clutch my shoulders hard so I thrust a little deeper and harder and she came. Twice.  
“I was so happy! I lowered myself and kissed her and when she opened her eyes I could see she could feel I was still hard inside her and I just grinned like a fool and said something really gauche.”  
Amused and intensely curious, Beverly asked breathlessly, “What did you say?”  
“Surprise!”  
“Ha! What did she do?”  
“It wasn’t what she did, it was what she said.”  
“Which was?”  
“There’s more?”  
“Oh, God, Jean-Luc. She didn’t?”  
“Yes she did. So I rolled us onto our sides and lifted her leg over my hip.”  
Beverly frowned. “That makes for deep penetration.”  
“I know, but I wanted her to learn that there are more ways to orgasm that just by stimulating the clit alone and the angle allowed the head of my penis to slide over that spot in the vagina.”  
“So?”  
“Well it took a long time, but she had a very satisfying double orgasm and I came too, quite well as I recall. She seemed as happy about that as she was with her own achievements.”  
Beverly chuckled. “Lucky lady.”  
“Hmm. After that she said she’d had enough and that she was a little sore, so I assisted her from the bed and gently advised her to use her new found knowledge to explore her sexuality, either alone or with a partner. Then we showered and, after a gentle hug and a kiss, she left.”  
“And that was it?”  
“Well, yes. Apart from the message that arrived later.”  
“A message?”  
“Beverly, I’m not going to divulge what it said, suffice it to say she was very grateful and happy.”  
The doctor smiled up at her husband feeling very tender towards him. “That was a lovely story, Jean-Luc, thank you for telling me and I meant it when I said she was a very lucky lady. She’s started with the best. In fact...you might’ve spoiled her. After you...well let’s just say you’d be a very hard act to follow.”  
With a mildly disgruntled growl, Jean-Luc kissed his wife.  
“What about you? Have you ever, to use your lovely term, ‘had’ a virgin?”  
Beverly shrugged. “I don’t know.”  
“What about the three secret boyfriends?”  
“I really don’t know. Maybe one, two or all of them were virgins, I have no idea.”  
Frowning, Jean-Luc asked, “They had no technique, no finesse?”  
“Jean-Luc, we were seventeen years old and loaded with cosmic dust! We just wanted to...fuck. No finesse, no technique, just mind-blowing sex.”  
“Hmm. Well I suppose there’s a time and a place for everything.”  
He gently eased her upright. “Now, wife, I’m hungry. I’d like some dessert.”  
Holding the back of her hand against her brow in a very dramatic gesture, Beverly moaned,  
“Oh! What drudgery! I slave all day at work and now I have to prepare my sex-god husband his evening sweet!”  
“Shut up, Beverly.” Said Jean-Luc with dry amusement.  
Her giggle lightened Jean-Luc’s heart. If only he could always keep her so happy.  
It came as no surprise to Jean-Luc when Beverly attacked him the moment he slid beneath the sheets. Between passionate kisses and heated caresses she growled, “Your story has got me all hot and bothered, Jean-Luc. Care to use some of your technique and finesse?”  
Just over an hour later, Beverly was sprawled face down across the bed, softly snoring and Jean-Luc was trying to find the covers without disturbing his sated lover. The bed was a riotously tangled mess of sheets and covers. In the dark, Jean-Luc had found the pillows, both on the floor, and managed to ease one under Beverly’s head without waking her, but everything else seemed to be tangled in their legs or dangling over one side of the bed or on the floor. With growing frustration, he grabbed what he thought was the corner of the cover and gave it a quick tug. Unfortunately it jerked Beverly’s leg, waking her. She uttered a vulgar curse and turned to peer over her shoulder, her mass of knotted hair partially blinding her.  
“For Christ’s sake, what are you doing?”  
Taking a calming breath, Jean-Luc strove to keep his tone mild. “I’m trying to cover us. I don’t know about you, Beverly, but I sleep better when I’m warm!” He’d begun with a mild tone, but ended in irritated sarcasm. Beverly sat up abruptly and started to tug and haul the covers, achieving nothing but making the tangle worse. Now growing annoyed and impatient, Jean-Luc, who really wanted nothing but to sleep, said brusquely, “Stop it, Beverly. You’re not helping.”  
“Oh, really?” She snapped. “Well you can go fuck yourself!”  
They glared at each other and suddenly Beverly covered her face with her hands and burst into tears. Dropping his head, Jean-Luc took only enough time to get the covers sorted out before he gathered Beverly into his arms and eased her to lie with him. After a while she stopped crying and shuddered through a deep sigh.  
“Sorry.” Small, sad.  
“No need.” Sad and resolute.  
“Jean-Luc?” Cautious  
“Mmm?” Curious.  
“Maybe we should see Patrick Adams soon.”  
Silence. Then a sigh.   
“You really think so?” Reluctant.  
Lifting her head, Beverly gently touched her forehead to Jean-Luc’s.  
“Uh huh.”  
Swallowing and bowing to the inevitable, Jean-Luc sighed. “Very well. But may I make a suggestion?”  
“Yes.”  
“We do it after this mission. Neither of us can afford to be sidetracked right now. We’re only three and a half days away from reaching the coordinates.”  
“Fair enough.” The fact that she simply accepted his suggestion with no protest and the following charged silence made Jean-Luc suspicious. His eyes narrowed when she said with innocent guile, “Are we going to get any more sleep?”  
There was a trace of amusement when Jean-Luc asked wryly, “Are you considering seducing me again?”  
He felt her fingers begin to draw random patterns in his body hair. “Well it would pass the time...and when you’re finally sated, you do tend to become comatose.”  
He snorted and grinned, knowing his next comment would cause him to regret saying it, but he just couldn’t resist.  
“True, but at least I don’t snore.”  
Beverly did her best to be outraged, but in the end they both laughed. It was a sound that filled Jean-Luc’s heart and yes, they did have sex and yes, both of the slept heavily afterwards. Beverly snoring peacefully.

 

Jean-Luc was immensely pleased to find Beverly in a bright mood next morning. Although he could still see a trace of sadness in her eyes, she seemed to be making a concerted effort to try and put her sorrow behind her.  
It was over a second coffee, the croissants eaten, that she asked with an innocent smile, “Jean-Luc, you said yesterday that you’d explain about the tube of lubricant you kept by your bed.”  
Taking a deep breath and briefly closing his eyes, Jean-Luc slowly shook his head, feeling a spike of irritation. “You,” He said incredulously and annoyed, “Are obsessed with my former sex life!”  
Trying to make light of his reaction, Beverly chuckled. “I am not!”  
His eyes were dark, his expression tight. “Yes you are and quite frankly, I’m getting a little tired of your continued interrogations.”  
Misjudging his protest completely, she rolled her eyes, failing to see just how annoyed Jean-Luc had become.  
“I’m not interrogating you, Jean-Luc. Jesus, don’t be so bloody precious. I’m just curious, that’s all.”  
Tilting his head, his eyes bored into hers. “Just curious? All right, Beverly. Just why do you think I had a tube of lube beside my bed?”  
Beverly shrugged, finally realising this wasn’t so funny any more, but unable to see a way out.  
“Well...” She raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips. “Maybe to use as you described in your story. You know...to make your partners more...comfortable.”  
“Oh, really?” His tone was hard. “And just how many partners have I had in the last twelve years, Beverly?”  
Pulling her lips to one side, Beverly raised her eyebrows. “Ah...not that many.”  
“No. So don’t you think it would pathetic of me to keep a tube of lubricant by my bedside on the off chance I might find a woman to share my bed?”  
Shrugging again, Beverly had run out of words. She bowed her head and blushed.  
“What’s wrong, Beverly? Not so funny now? All right, just so as not to be disingenuous, the lube was there to make masturbation more enjoyable. So that every time I jacked off, my head filled with visions of you, I might get some pleasure out of it! There. Satisfied?”  
When Beverly remained silent, an angry Jean-Luc barked. “My turn. How about you, Beverly? Did you keep a lubricant beside your bed?”  
She nodded and Jean-Luc grunted. “And who did you think about?”  
When Beverly looked up, Jean-Luc’s anger quickly waned at seeing her contrition. He was about to apologise when she beat him to it.  
“I’m sorry, Jean-Luc. I know I should’ve kept my mouth shut, but the truth is I am curious. Intensely so.” She sighed and rubbed her brow. “We both know I’ve been in love with you for some time now and yes, when I masturbated I thought of nothing but you, but the thing is I’ve been attracted to you for a very long time and I’ve wondered...Jean-Luc, you’re such a private man, so damned noble...even during our friendship, when we became so close, I wanted so badly to ask you stuff, things about your sex life.” She sighed again. “But I couldn’t, could I, no more than you could ask me. So, like you, I fantasised.” She let out a sad chuckle. “Deanna and I used to speculate, try and figure out what you’d be like in bed and I found it so erotic, I mean just thinking about it made me so horny...so lately I’ve been distracting myself by dredging up all those old fantasies, all that speculation and more recently, hearing your stories...I just felt better feeling slightly aroused all day, rather than wallowing in dreadful sorrow and despair.”  
With another deep sigh, Beverly lifted her hands and frowned. “I’m sorry, Jean-Luc. I used you. I was a voyeur by proxy. I should’ve told you.”  
Letting out a short breath, Jean-Luc stared at his hands. Softly he said, “Would you like a detailed dossier on each and every one of my sexual encounters? Starting with my first and ending with you?”  
When Beverly’s head snapped up she was relieved to see the wry smile on her husband’s face.  
“I’m afraid it wouldn’t be a very thick file.”  
Chuckling, Beverly shook her head. “Now that is an out-and-out lie!”  
They both chuckled and Jean-Luc sat back and rubbed his nose. “Beverly, I apologise, I overreacted. From now on you may ask me anything, anything you wish about my sexual exploits and I will gladly furnish you with every lurid detail.”  
Smiling tenderly, Beverly’s eyes twinkled with delight. “Thank you, Jean-Luc and in return you must feel free to ask me anything you want too. It’s a two-way street, my love and I can tell you from personal experience, it can be quite...stimulating.”  
Jean-Luc’s eyes darkened and he looked at her with blatant sensuality. “I’m sure it is, but unlike you, I actually have to get my work done and if I spent too much time thinking about you in a sexual context, I would have to remain in my ready room all shift, lest the crew see the very obvious evidence of my libidinous thoughts.”  
Letting his gentle jibe about getting her work done go by momentarily, Beverly leaned forward and licked her lips provocatively. “Now that’s a pleasant thought. Thank you, Jean-Luc. Today, while I’m so idle, I’ll think of you, sitting at your desk in your office, your pants bulging with your erection.”  
His voice dropped to a rumbling baritone. “You, Beverly are a cock tease.”  
Her smile was deliberately saucy. “I know and don’t you just love it.”  
His gaze intensified. “Oh yes, I love it when you tease my cock.”  
Things may have escalated then, ending with them indulging their already heated arousal on the table, but a call from the bridge brought them back to reality.  
“Riker to Picard.”  
With his eyes still riveted on his wife, Jean-Luc said huskily,  
“Picard.”  
“Captain, we’ve received new coordinates from the aliens. We’ve altered course and are proceeding on the new heading at warp five.”  
It was Beverly who dropped her intense gaze, breaking the spell. Jean-Luc blinked and took a steadying breath.  
“I’m on my way, number one. Picard out.”  
He stood and Beverly smirked at seeing the straining material of his pants. Muttering, “Wench.” Jean-Luc watched as Beverly stood and sauntered over to him, saying quietly,  
“We can continue this after our shifts’ end.”  
After she’d left, Jean-Luc took several deep breaths and, having regained control, left their quarters, but in the back of his mind was an image of his wife and the way she had looked at him. He knew it would stay with him for the remainder of the day. His smile was only a ghostly one but it was decidedly wicked.

 

As would be expected, there was no trace of his private thoughts as he stepped out of the lift and onto his bridge. Will turned to watch his captain, noting with some satisfaction that the man was beginning to shed the shadow of perpetual sorrow that had dogged him for so long.  
His back was straight, his shoulders square and his bearing impeccable.  
“Report, number one.”  
“It came in as text and as yet we haven’t identified the origin.”  
Moving to the tactical station, Jean-Luc read the brief message and pursed his lips.  
“What does the computer have to say?”  
Will shrugged. “Not a lot, sir. As we know virtually nothing about this sector of space, those coordinates could mean anything.” He scowled. “Or be anything.”  
Frowning, Jean-Luc thinned his lips. “Indeed. Does command know about this?”  
The big first officer shook his head. “Not that I’m aware of, Captain, although we have sent it on. But we’re so far out now any signal we send back will take days to reach them.”  
Turning to the viewscreen, Jean-Luc ordered, “Screen on.”  
The forward wall cleared to give a view of the area of space in front of the ship as she travelled at warp five. The bridge was silent as the captain thought. Lifting his right hand, Jean-Luc rubbed his fingers over his lower lip. “Tactical, send a hail, directed at the new coordinates.”  
“Aye, sir.”   
Will cast his CO a sidelong glance, trying to guess what the older man was up to. “A hunch, Captain?”  
His frown deepening, Jean-Luc peered at the screen. “More like a shout in the dark, number one.” He then looked down at the helm console. “ETA at the new coordinates?”  
“Three days, Captain.”  
That made Jean-Luc tilt his head, frown and squint. “Three days? But that was the ETA for the first set of coordinates.” His jaw muscles bunched. “Computer, display predicted course for new coordinates and overlay on previous heading.”  
The forward viewscreen changed to give a representation of a star chart, although it was incomplete, the computer having to extrapolate with data that it gathered from the sensors and scanners as the ship went further and further into uncharted space. The two courses appeared and at first all Jean-Luc could do was frown.  
“What the hell?” Jean-Luc muttered, mostly to himself.  
Will stepped closer and scratched his head. “This makes no sense.”  
Using forefinger and thumb, Jean-Luc pinched his lips, deep in thought. When he spoke it was very softly. “I think it does, Commander. I think our mystery friends are being very cautious.”  
Turning to his captain, Will narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean, sir?”  
With a rueful shake of his head, Jean-Luc offered a small smile. “Don’t look at them as headings or courses, Will. Think laterally.”  
Turning back to the screen, Will studied what he could see. Two courses, sharing the same origin, but diverging at slightly different angles, making in effect a very long, narrow triangle, the base of which was as yet missing. A slow smile crept across the exec’s face.  
“Don’t look for the obvious. If it’s not left or right, maybe it’s in the middle.”  
“Indeed.” Walking back to the command chair, Jean-Luc said mildly, “Tactical, what’s say we launch a class one probe aimed at the middle of the two sets of coordinates?”  
“Aye, Captain.”  
Will took his seat beside Jean-Luc and gave his captain a long look. “Bit of a risk, sir?”  
Offering a one shoulder shrug, Jean-Luc pushed out his lower lip. “I think we’re entitled, number one. I’m sure our enigmatic friends would understand if we gave a gentle knock on their door. Launch when ready, Lieutenant.”  
“Yes, sir. Probe launched.”  
“Now then,” said Jean-Luc evenly. “Let’s see if they’re in the mood to answer.”  
Will sat back, a small grin in place. He’d served with his captain for many years and yet the man could still surprise him. With any luck, the coming hours just might prove to be very interesting.

 

The being watched as the probe left the Enterprise and accelerated away from the ship. With an imperceptible gesture, he communicated with his companion. She nodded and smiled. Using both long, slender hands, each of the seven fingers capable of issuing independent signals, she communicated with her companion.  
“Yes, they are eager. And curious. Just as we expected.”  
The tissue-thin surrounds of the male’s eyes crinkled as he smiled. The movements of his fingers and hands so subtle as to be almost imperceptible. “Yes. I must say I’m looking forward to this. The trouble has brought much sorrow to the conscience.”  
“Yes,” Agreed the female. “He has been greatly disturbed and in his worry, we all suffer.”  
The male sighed. “That is the nature of the conscience.”  
“You are confident?” The female asked, her hands seeming to twitch ever so slightly.  
“I am. We have chosen correctly. They are, after all, the same.”  
“So many.”  
“Yes. Frightening actually, especially given their expansion.”  
“They need a conscience.”  
“Perhaps, in time. You must remember how long it took us to realise. They are but children compared with us. But...we must never underestimate their potential. That would be at our peril.”  
The female nodded and sighed. “That they, and some of the others have provided the conscience for so long...and they have not yet discovered their potential. I’m not sure whether to pity them, or fear them.”  
The male inclined his head. “Perhaps we would be wise to do both. Now, we must decide whether or not to reply to their rather obvious invitation.”  
With a gentle smile, the female’s hands and fingers made tiny, incremental movements. “So presumptuous. First the messages, then the hails and now a probe. How impertinent.”  
“I think we can be a little more tolerant. Let the probe gather a little information, just enough to draw them in. Once they’re within our sphere of influence, they can be escorted by two of our ships. I’m sure that will delight them.”  
“Communications? Scanning?”  
The male tilted his head. “No communications, but allow a surface scan of our ships. And make sure we do not do anything to alarm them. We need their help, the conscience needs their help and as unpalatable as it is, we must do everything we can to assist these beings and make them welcome.”  
“And after?”   
The male sighed, his hands momentarily still. Then his fingers began their minuscule movements. “We must do as we’ve done before and allow them to leave.”  
“And if they wish further contact?”  
“That will be put to the conscience. It will be his decision as is right.”   
The female gave one last look at the approaching probe and shook her head. “Such a lack of delicacy.”

 

Three and a half hours later the lieutenant at tactical suddenly tensed, saying curtly,  
“Captain, I have incoming information from the probe.”  
Jean-Luc turned to his exec and raised one eyebrow. “It seems someone was home after all.”

 

Over the next hour or so the senior staff of the Enterprise poured over the information gained by the probe. As they sat around the long table in the aft observation lounge a three dimensional holo image of a planet glowed softly as it hovered in mid air above the tabletop.  
Geordi sighed as he read the information once again. “Gee, I wish Data was here. He’d have no trouble analysing this.” Sighing again, he shook his head, a look of disgust on his face. “Such as it is.”  
Jean-Luc nodded; a sad smile on his face. “Indeed, I’m sure he’d be fascinated. But he’s not with us any more, so we have to do the best we can. What do you think, Mr.LaForge?”  
“Well, Captain,” Geordi’s brow creased in a frown. “Provided you understand the information is so limited...and I can’t understand why, unless the probe’s capabilities have been compromised somehow, it’s M class...I think...maybe, and these areas...” He indicated by pointing at several darker spots on the surface of the sphere, “May be cities. But then again, they might be geological features. There’s just not enough information to be sure.”  
Will stroked his beard, narrowing his eyes as he studied the rotating orb. “Is there any evidence of technology? Emissions of any sort? Satellites in orbit? What about an orbiting space dock like the one described by our ships?”  
“No, Commander,” said Geordi, shaking his head. “Nothing, communications silent and no trace of any technology of any sort. At least not as far as we know.”  
“Cloak?” Jean-Luc’s tone easily informed the dark engineer he didn’t expect an affirmative answer.  
“Not that we can tell, Captain.”  
Jean-Luc sighed with resignation. “So, we’re still no further informed than before, despite what the probe’s scans provided.”  
“No, sir.”  
Beverly sat back and slowly swivelled her chair from side-to-side. Her thoughts were expressed as she spoke. “Okay. We know we’re dealing with a warp-capable species, whose technology, that we know of, is more sophisticated than ours.”  
Her eyes sharpened as she stopped her movement and sent her husband a frank look. “They can probably do as they please; I mean how would we know?”  
“Indeed.” agreed Jean-Luc. “In fact they can spoon feed us and we’d be none the wiser, but there is one thing we have to keep in mind, although I stress I don’t believe it, but the chance remains, however remote that the people we’re dealing with are not the species we think they are.”  
Will grunted sourly. “I hate mysteries. If we could just pin it down one way or another! It’s not that I mind working in the dark so much as I don’t take kindly to being led by the nose. If it is the species we think it is, why the cloak-and-dagger routine? They invited us!”  
“Well,” sighed Jean-Luc. “The way I see it is that we have little option but to investigate. If the probe’s information has been doled out, then there must be a reason for it and the only way we’re going to find out what that reason is...is to go and see for ourselves.”  
He lifted his head and said firmly, “Helm, plot a course to the planet, coordinates are being fed in now and engage at warp two on my command.”  
“Aye, Captain. Course and speed laid in.”  
“Engage.”  
He leaned back in his seat, turned it and looked out at the passing stars. “If indeed we have found our potential friends, then it would seem our knock at their door has provoked a response.”  
Turning back to his assembled staff, Jean-Luc said quietly, “Yellow alert.”  
Will lifted his chin and stroked his moustache with index finger and thumb. “Expecting trouble, sir?”  
The smile was genuine but didn’t quite reach his eyes. “No, but I feel a certain amount of preparedness is called for. Nothing overtly provocative mind, but again, I feel we’re entitled. So far we’ve responded to their invitation and in return they’ve sent two separate sets of coordinates and now it seems they may have deliberately interfered with our probe. Now, I can’t prove anything, certainly nothing that suggests a hostile intent, but I’m not about to happily put our neck in a noose.”  
The big first officer grinned. “Agreed, Captain and if I may, sir...Worf would be very happy with your assessment.”  
That made Jean-Luc’s smile grow with fond memories. “Yes, I’m sure Mr. Worf would’ve approved. Now, if there’s nothing else?”  
Everyone shook their heads and Jean-Luc gave a curt nod. “Very well, take your stations.” The senior staff rose, but paused as the captain said softly, “And stay on your toes.”  
A soft chorus of, “Yes, sir.” was heard as the staff filed out, leaving Jean-Luc in deep contemplation.

 

The conscience held his child while tears streamed from her eyes, her beseeching stare wrenching his heart. His other three children were around him and all four children were afflicted the same way. The room was devoid of its usual sounds and colours, even their mother was absent. The conscience found tears of his own sliding down his face, wanting desperately to talk to his children, an ability he could only share with them as the only other way of communication was with his hands, but unlike his people, his hands were vastly different and even though he had been born on the world, he knew he was unlike his people and found his hands unable to achieve the level of proficiency necessary for fluent communication. His children were partially successful in using their hands to communicate, but usually they preferred to speak, an ability they had inherited from him.  
It made them unique but also doomed them to a future very different from the indigenous population. Being the children of the conscience was an enormous honour, carrying great prestige, but also a huge burden as, although exulted in their own right, they were forever excluded. They were beings of two worlds, not one or the other and as such could never take their place amongst the people their father served. That he too was not of the world he guided was irrelevant. He was the conscience. Just to be his children was enough. His difference, not only unlike his people but also his children was never questioned.  
And so the conscience held his daughter while his other children suffered as she did and he was unable to offer comfort, other than physical. He closed his eyes and willed the approaching ship to hurry.

 

With the elegant Enterprise cruising along at a leisurely warp two, it took a few days to get close to their destination and Jean-Luc, who had taken to spending longer and longer time on the bridge in anticipation, was just on his way back to his quarters very late at night when the call came from the bridge. He wasn’t surprised, in fact he felt a tingle of excitement.  
“Captain Picard to the bridge immediately.”  
Making an abrupt about turn, Jean-Luc retraced his steps to the turbo lift. Once inside he tapped his comm. badge. “Picard to Riker.”  
Even though the call had woken Will, there was no trace of sleepiness in his voice. “Riker here, sir.”  
“Sorry to wake you, number one, but I’ve been summoned to the bridge and I can only assume it means our friends may have made an appearance, or at the very least, some kind of contact. Care to join me?”  
Of course it wasn’t a question Will could refuse, in fact he was eager, but he did have to take his daughter into account.  
“Gladly, Captain. I’ll be there as soon as I can organise a sitter.”  
“Very well, Commander, I’ll see you soon. Picard out.”  
Jean-Luc felt the tension as soon as he stepped out of the lift. The bridge was very quiet as one would expect during the ‘night’ shift, but it seemed that everyone’s attention was glued to the forward view screen. As Jean-Luc stepped onto the bridge, his feet faltered just slightly as his eyes beheld the most stunningly beautiful ship he’d ever seen. Not taking his eyes off the image, he made his way to the area between the command chair and the helm and ops stations. His tone was almost reverent as he said softly to no one in particular, “Report.”  
The lieutenant at tactical’s voice was also hushed in awe. “It just appeared out of nowhere, Captain, in fact there’re two of them, one each side of us at a distance of precisely three hundred and fifty kilometres.”  
“Hail them.”  
“We have, sir.”  
Tearing his eyes away, Jean-Luc looked over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised in silent enquiry.  
“No response, Captain.”  
“Have you initiated any scans?”  
“No, sir.”  
“Then do so, Lieutenant.”  
“Yes, Captain.”  
Turning his head back, Jean-Luc took an involuntary step forward, as if getting closer to the screen would give him a better look at the astonishing ship. The officer’s voice was confused.  
“Captain? We’ve scanned them, but I’m sorry, sir, I can’t tell you much.”  
Turning his body away from the screen, Jean-Luc faced the woman and said with a trace of impatience, “Elaborate. What do you mean?”  
“Just as I said, sir. I cannot detect a warp bubble, no warp signature, no ion trail in fact I have absolutely no idea what their propulsion system is. Our scans cannot identify the composition of their hull, nor can they penetrate the hull. All I can tell you is that there are many viewports of some kind, but we can’t see through them, however I would hazard a guess that any being on that ship would be able to look out and see us. The hull itself is seamless, sir, there are no external features and I cannot find anything to indicate any systems involved with shielding or weaponry.”  
“How big are they?”  
“I can’t give you an exact calculation, sir, they’re not as big as us, however they are quite large.”  
“And we can’t discern what’s making them glow?”  
“No, Captain.”  
Just then the turbo lift doors opened and Will strode out and onto the bridge. He immediately saw the ship, came to an abrupt halt and muttered, “Holy shit!”  
Casting a mildly amused look at his first officer, Jean-Luc’s eyes gleamed. “Not perhaps what I would’ve said, number one, but appropriate nonetheless.”   
He gestured with his hand. “Our hosts it would seem.”  
Getting his feet moving again, Will joined his captain. “What do we know so far?”  
Snorting softly, Jean-Luc folded his arms across his chest and shook his head. “Virtually nothing. They’re not answering our hails and our scans have been all but useless. In fact I...”  
“Captain!” The lieutenant at tactical was staring at her board. “We’re being scanned, sir.”  
“Shields?” Asked a now concerned Will.  
“No.”  
“What about weapons? Bring them online?”  
“No. We will take no provocative actions, other than to stay at yellow alert.”  
Letting out a soft but frustrated huff, Will glared at the alien ship, causing Jean-Luc to lay a gentle hand on the younger man’s forearm. “We’re in their territory, Will. They have a right to be curious and to assure themselves we pose no threat.”  
Will’s frown showed his displeasure. “Yes, sir, I know that and I understand. I just wish it wasn’t so damned one-sided.”  
“Well, number one, it’s not as if we can do anything about it. They invited us, we’re here. The next move is up to them.”  
The ensign at the helm asked quietly, “Shall we maintain current speed and heading, Captain?”  
“Yes, Ensign. Until such time as we’re requested to do otherwise, we continue.”  
“Aye, Captain.”  
From behind him, Jean-Luc heard the tactical officer say incredulously, “Captain...they’ve accessed the main computer core.”  
“That is unfortunate, but I can’t see how we can prevent it without taking a hostile stance. In any case, it’s unlikely they’re going to learn more than they already know; if these are indeed the same people who have interacted with our ships in the recent past.”  
Suddenly the same young woman tensed and reported, “Sir? We’re receiving a message. Text only.”  
With his usual grace and dignity, Jean-Luc went aft to the station and read quietly for a few moments. To Will’s silent enquiry, Jean-Luc smiled.  
“We are requested to maintain present course and speed and that our ‘most prominent healer’ be available to ‘interface’ in four of our hours.”  
Will sighed and gave a sympathetic look. “That will make it about seven thirty.”  
Nodding, Jean-Luc gestured with a tilt of his head. “I’ll tell her, Will. You have the bridge; I’ll be in the ready room.”  
Jean-Luc was well aware Beverly had been missing him sorely over the last few days. His ever increasing time spent on the bridge was justifiable, but it was hard on both of them, Beverly especially. So it was with some reluctance that he called her, knowing it was going to disturb what little sleep she was getting. The plain fact was since they’d become a couple, neither slept well without the presence of the other and given their need for mutual comfort and solace, it was little wonder neither of them had been getting much sleep. He grimaced as her reply to his call clearly showed her exhaustion.  
“Crusher here.”  
“I’m sorry to wake you, Beverly, but I’m afraid things have occurred that require your input.”  
Now awake and alert, Beverly was all business. “We’ve made contact?”  
“In a manner of speaking, yes. At present, there are two alien ships, one on each side, ostensibly escorting us. They haven’t responded to our hails and we can’t scan them, but they’ve executed a very thorough scan of us, including a good look at our computer core. Then we received a text message, instructing us to maintain our course and speed. And Beverly, they’ve requested to... ‘interface’ with you in four hours.”  
“Did they ask for me by name?”  
“No, as before they worded it as the ‘most prominent healer’.”  
“I see. Okay, I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes. Crusher out.”  
Rising from his desk, Jean-Luc spent a few minutes staring out at the retreating stars before regaining his seat and bringing up an image of one of the alien ships. “My God, but you’re beautiful!” He whispered reverently. “I can only hope the beings who built you are as beautiful in spirit as their ships.”

 

The hours ticked by remarkably quickly. Beverly was in the ready room, drinking yet another strong black coffee, Jean-Luc nursing a now-cold Earl Grey tea when the call came from Will.  
“Captain, Beverly, we’ve received another message.”  
The couple joined Will at the tactical station and read as the text appeared on the console screen.  
“May we interface with the most prominent healer?”  
Giving a slight nod, Jean-Luc let the lieutenant know to send a message in the affirmative. There was a wait of only a few seconds before the next missive arrived.  
“Most prominent healer, thank you for agreeing to interface with us. We require a healer; one who possesses thorough knowledge of humans. Are you such a person?”  
With raised eyebrows, Beverly turned to her husband, her eyes showing her deep concern. “Now just what the hell is going on here? Why do they want...or need...a doctor well versed in human physiology? Are they saying... obliquely...that they have some humans who need a doctor when we already know they can medically treat humans better than we can?”  
Jean-Luc sighed and rubbed his brow. With a slow shake of his head, he said quietly, “Unknown, Doctor, just as this entire mission is one of entering into the unknown, both figuratively and literally. All I can suggest is that you respond. Tell them you’re human yourself and that yes, you are very knowledgeable about your own species.”  
Still unconvinced, Beverly scowled. “And what of the implications? I’m to just gloss over the fact that these...people...might be holding humans who are so badly injured or diseased that the aliens, even with their superior knowledge and techniques, can’t help them?”  
Gazing steadily into his wife’s eyes, Jean-Luc had no option but to adopt his captain’s persona. “Doctor, we are not here to judge, indeed we’re not in a position to do so. If these people are the aliens who have assisted us in the past, then I can’t see how we can refuse them and if it turns out they do indeed have some humans in their care and for whatever reason can’t treat them, then aren’t you honour bound to render help?”  
His tacit reference to the Hippocratic Oath annoyed Beverly, but she knew he was right. That, however, didn’t make it any more palatable, especially as his very gentle rebuke had been given publicly. Controlling the urge to glare, Beverly directed her attention to the monitor. Inputting the instructions to the computer to configure her speech to text, she said quietly,  
“This is Doctor Beverly Crusher. I am human and I have a very good knowledge of humans; their anatomy, physiology, the illnesses that afflict them and how to treat those illnesses.”  
When she was ready, Beverly instructed the computer to send. The wait for a reply was short.  
“Doctor Crusher, once we reach our home planet, you will be contacted by a council of healers. It is our wish that you interface with them.”  
Beverly started to speak again and Jean-Luc almost stopped her as he felt her question was going to be slightly aggressive.  
“May I ask how many humans you’re holding and what is the nature of their need of my assistance?”  
“No.”  
At that, Beverly’s eyebrows rose and Jean-Luc could see she was about to go too far. Placing a gentle hand on her forearm, he gave her a look he hoped she would recognise as coming from both her captain and her husband. “Doctor...” He said quietly.   
Taking a calming breath, Beverly lowered her head and stepped back. Jean-Luc spoke, making sure he utilised his usual polite respect.  
“I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard and as captain I command this ship and all who serve on it. Doctor Crusher is under my command and she will only act under my authority. Her questions have merit. If you wish her to act in her capacity as a healer, than surely it is only fair that you give her some idea of what it is you wish of her?”  
“Your words carry truth, Captain Picard; however we must abide by our own precepts. Doctor Crusher will receive all the information she needs once we reach our home planet.”  
Feeling the communication was about to cease, Jean-Luc asked one final question.  
“We are dealing with human patients are we not?”  
“Yes, but more than that.”  
The communication link was abruptly severed, causing Beverly to mutter darkly, “What was that supposed to mean?”  
“I don’t know.” Jean-Luc said in clipped annoyed tones. “We’re all in the dark here, Doctor.”  
Turning his attention to the helm, Jean-Luc asked tightly, “ETA at our destination?”  
The young ensign frowned and half turned in her seat. “If it’s the planet, five hours, Captain.”  
With narrowed eyes, Jean-Luc asked quietly, “You have doubts, Ensign?”  
The woman was clearly reluctant and nervous but she’d been asked a direct question and had no option but to answer.  
“I’m not sure, sir.”  
To her CO’s raised eyebrow, the ensign frowned, trying to find the right words to describe her disquiet. “Captain, although on the surface it seems obvious we’re headed for the planet, I’m not convinced. But...it’s only a feeling, Captain, I can’t base it on anything solid.”  
Walking slowly down to the helm station, Jean-Luc made sure to modulate his voice and appear approachable.  
“What is your name, Ensign?”  
His gentle deep voice both calmed and excited the woman. Blushing slightly she replied, “Bates, sir, Ensign Faye Bates.”  
Jean-Luc smiled warmly.  
“Well then Ensign Bates, tell me what’s causing these feelings.”  
When the youngster hesitated, Jean-Luc placed a paternal hand on her shoulder. “Ensign, this ship functions at its best when the crew...all of the crew ...give their utmost, make the best of their abilities and one of the curious abilities humans possess is gut feelings. Hunches, if you will. Now I have been a captain for a very long time but believe it or not, I was once an ensign just like you and my first captain told me to listen to my feelings...my hunches. And I did. If you have any disquiet, any gut feelings that something is not right, then not only are you duty bound to inform me, but I expect you to, I encourage you to. Just because I am of senior rank doesn’t mean I don’t hear all ranks and appreciate what they have to say, Ensign.”  
Bolstered by his inspiring words, ensign Bates took a deep breath and faced her captain. “Sir, when I was young my father used to take me on trips into the wildernesses all over Earth. He was a very keen videographer and he liked to capture vids of animals in their natural habitat. Through him I learned that sometimes what seemed like the nest or home base of our subject wasn’t always the real one. Many animals create false homes to mislead predators and it was the very obviousness of these false homes that taught us to search elsewhere and in nearly every instance the real home was nearby. Well hidden and almost always scent free.” She turned and looked at her board. “I just can’t shake the feeling that what we see isn’t quite what we’re going to get, sir.”  
Giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze, Jean-Luc turned his attention to tactical. “Can we scan beyond the planet...or for that matter, around the planet?”  
The lieutenant tapped a few controls and tilted her head. “Now that we’re so much closer we are getting more information, Captain, at least about the surrounding space. The planet itself, however, remains very vague. There’s nothing more than what we got from the probe, sir.”  
“I see. All right, what do our scans tell us about the surrounding space?”  
The woman frowned and chewed her lower lip. “Captain? I think there may be something...” She looked up, her expression one of apology. “I’m sorry sir, but I don’t know what it is.”  
Will was about to say something when Jean-Luc said quietly, “Lieutenant, have you coordinates for what our scans have found?”  
“Yes, Captain.”  
“Very well.” Lifting his head slightly, Jean-Luc said firmly, “Computer identify anomaly at given coordinates.” With a nod towards the lieutenant, he gave the silent order for the officer to input the coordinates. Almost instantly the computer replied, “Cannot comply. Insufficient data.”  
Will shook his head, saying sourly, “Still the cloak-and-dagger routine. Why are they being so damned mysterious? If they’re who we think they are, we already know about them!”  
Arching one eyebrow Jean-Luc said dryly, “Do we, number one?” He answered his own question. “If it is who we think it is we know next to nothing. We don’t even know what they look like...apart from the fact they possess hands with seven fingers and I don’t know about you, but I can think of any number of species who share that particular trait.” He sighed and folded his arms across his chest, turning to watch as Beverly joined them. “It comes back time and time again to the same thing. If they are who we think they are, then they’ve shown absolutely no hostile intent, indeed they’ve been nothing but benevolent. Mysterious yes, but benign and we’re just going to have to accept that this is one of those situations where we just have to go along with whatever comes our way.”  
Beverly cast a long look at the viewscreen, her expression softening as she studied the remarkably beautiful ship that glowed softly, creating a nimbus of light that seemed to carry the ship within its grasp. She sighed and shook her head. “So, either way we have five hours to kill.”  
Snorting wryly, Will’s eyes too strayed to the viewscreen. Whatever arch comment he’d been about to say was lost. Instead he said, almost reverently, “Have you ever seen anything like that before, Captain?”  
Neither Will nor Beverly had seen Jean-Luc turn to gaze avidly at the alien ship. His reply was not quite a whisper. “No, Will, I haven’t.”  
The three officers stood, transfixed until a quiet interruption from tactical.  
“Captain?”  
Jean-Luc tore his eyes away reluctantly and raised one eyebrow.  
“Sir, they’ve sent instructions for our orbital station, once we arrive.”  
Pulling down the corners of his mouth, Jean-Luc took in a deep breath then let it out slowly. To no one in particular he remarked, “Well it seems as if we’re going to the planet after all.” He then collected his thoughts and asked, “What kind of orbit have they requested, Lieutenant?”  
“Standard rotational, Captain and well above the atmosphere. In fact, sir, we’ll be very high.”  
His face showing his interest, Jean-Luc turned again to watch the ship. “So, close but not too close.”  
Stroking his beard, Will pursed his lips. “I wonder if we’ll be able to beam down through whatever it is that’s shielding our scanners?”  
With a shrug, Jean-Luc turned his hands palm-up. “Who knows, number one. I suppose we’ll find out in the fullness of time.”  
Beverly’s darkly muttered, “Here’s hoping.” did little to ease the tension.

 

Upon final approach to the planet the escorting ships peeled off and disappeared in a blink of an eye. Just as tactical was about to announce this event, text appeared on her console. She quickly activated the comm.  
“Captain Picard to the bridge please.”  
Coming out of his ready room, Beverly close behind and both of them showing signs of stress and tiredness, Jean-Luc strode up to tactical and read; his expression one of surprise and pleasure. Without preamble he ordered the viewscreen on.  
The being was masked entirely by a tight suit made of a pale cream material that caught the ambient light. It could only be seen from the waist upwards and its head was completely encased in an unbroken hood. There were no eye-holes or any apertures for breathing. As the bridge personnel watched, two gloved hands appeared and, as text began to appear at the bottom of the screen, they wondered why the being kept its hands in full view.  
“I offer greetings on behalf of our people and the conscience. Doctor Beverly Crusher, I represent the council of healers. Would you agree to accept the information we are about to send...privately?”  
Warily, Beverly said, “Privately? Exactly what do you mean? Do you want me to view it in private or keep the contents private?”  
“Human healers hold their patients’ information with the utmost privacy, do you not? Is it not known as patient confidentiality? You, as a human doctor took an oath and within that oath is the condition of confidentiality. Is that not so, Doctor?”  
Beverly was frowning now, the feeling of being painted into a corner by her own professional tenets making her very uncomfortable.  
“Yes, that is true, but you have me at a distinct disadvantage.”  
The being was utterly motionless, its hands still held up in full view. Behind it was a light blue light, it may have been a wall, or something else, but the effect was very calming.  
“I understand your reluctance, Doctor. You do not wish to become involved in something you know nothing about. Please be assured...” The being gave an imperceptible bow. “And you also, Captain Picard, no one, not me, the council of healers or the conscience will harm you or your ship. Once you have completed what we hope will be a successful task, you and your ship will be free to go. At no time will you be compelled to stay, nor will we prevent it if you, at any time, wish to leave.”  
Jean-Luc stepped forward to stand by Beverly’s side. “May we know the nature of your problem?”  
“Alas, no, Captain. Only Doctor Crusher may know.”  
“Then perhaps you might like to share with us your name?”  
“No, Captain, it is unnecessary. Besides, you would never be able to pronounce it.”  
Jean-Luc turned to his wife, his expression letting her know it was her call. Abide by the alien’s wishes or they leave. Ultimately the decision was an easy one. Someone, presumably human, needed a doctor and Beverly was not only a damned good doctor, but she was by her very nature a compassionate person.  
Turning her full attention towards the image on the screen, Beverly stood straight and said formally,  
“I accept your conditions. You have my word I will not divulge what you share with me.”   
The being made its subtle bow again and new text scrolled across the bottom of the screen.  
“We will send all we have and, once you have absorbed the information, please contact us with your diagnosis and treatment.”  
That made Beverly frown and hold up her hand.  
“Wait a minute. I have no problem studying the information, but I can’t guarantee a diagnosis or treatment without seeing the patients.”  
There was a tense silence and the alien lowered its hands. Almost two minutes passed before it raised its hands again and the text began once more.  
“If it becomes necessary, we may consider allowing such a visit, but we can only hope that will not occur. We have installed a sub routine within your ship’s computer that will secure three separate sections of your...sick bay. We are sending the information there now. Once you access your terminal, please allow a biological sample to be taken, the sub routine in the computer will facilitate this through the screen of your terminal and having verified your identity, the information will be displayed. Please note...anyone coming within five metres of your terminal will cause an automatic shutdown.”  
From behind the couple, Will’s grumbled, “How the hell have they done that?” Made Jean-Luc’s shoulders tense. He was thinking precisely the same thing.  
Gaping slightly, Beverly nodded. “Very well, I’ll go to sick bay now.”  
“Thank you Doctor Crusher.” Again the barely perceptible bow. “And you, Captain Picard.”  
The being lowered its hands and the screen blinked off.  
Jean-Luc and Beverly shared a look and a small smile before the doctor left the bridge. Jean-Luc bowed his head, pinching his lower lip, saying softly, “Mon Dieu, Data, how we miss you.”  
Lifting his head, Jean-Luc speared his exec with a hard gaze. “I want an in-depth computer analysis of that exchange. Tell it to study everything from the being itself, to the light surrounding it and the language it used, particularly the syntax. If there’s anything hidden, any subtext or things just unseen, I want to know about it.”  
All business now, Will nodded. “Aye, sir.”  
The viewscreen now gave an image of the planet. Before he retreated to his ready room, Jean-Luc, his eyes on the planet, drifted to ensign Bates, still seated at the helm.  
“How are those feelings now, Ensign?”  
Having her captain so close again gave Faye butterflies in her stomach, but she was quickly learning that he was not as formidable as she first thought. In fact she was beginning to think he was quite nice. “They’re still there, sir, maybe not as strong, but I’m still not completely happy.”  
Nodding slowly, but not taking his gaze from the viewscreen, Jean-Luc said softly, “Well keep working on it Ensign and don’t hesitate to bring any concerns, no matter how small to Commander Riker.”  
“Yes, Captain.”  
Giving one more thoughtful nod, Jean-Luc left the bridge.

 

Having seated herself in her office and activated her monitor, Beverly wondered exactly what it was she was to do next. She knew that a biological sample would be taken through the screen, but from where on her body and when then was to happen she had no idea.  
Just as she was mulling over the problem, text suddenly appeared on the monitor.  
“Doctor Crusher. Please place the pad of your right thumb on the screen.”  
Feeling somewhat relieved, Beverly complied. She was fascinated to see the screen darken and a bright blue aura surround her thumb. It reminded her of ancient images she’d seen of Kirlian photography where a glow emerged around any living thing.  
A few seconds passed before the screen brightened to its usual Starfleet blue, but no logo appeared. Instead text scrolled.  
“Thank you, Doctor Crusher, your identification has been verified. The download will now commence.”  
Information began to load at a phenomenal rate, making Beverly gape. Softly, she said experimentally, “Can you hear me?  
In a separate space at the lower edge of the screen a single word appeared.  
“Yes.”  
“Is this information chronological? Will it start with the onset of the problem and finish with the most up-to-date information?”  
“Yes.”  
“And may I ask how many patients am I required to diagnose and treat?”  
“Four, perhaps five.”  
“And they’re all human.”  
“No.”  
That made Beverly sit up and frown.  
“They’re not all human?”  
“No.”  
Running a frustrated hand through her hair, Beverly huffed. “Well how do you expect me to help the non-humans? I know nothing of your species! How can I...”  
“Doctor Crusher, you are getting ahead of yourself. Just read what we have sent you and trust that we have chosen the right person to help those who are afflicted.”  
The download abruptly ceased and Beverly sat back, tapping her chin in deep thought. “Afflicted.” Muttered Beverly. “That seems to suggest disease or illness rather than injury.”  
A little louder she said, “Can you still hear me?”  
Nothing. No response.  
“So,” Beverly sighed. “I’m on my own. Very well, let’s have a look. Computer display new download.”  
The first page appeared and as she read she realised she was reading about something she was familiar with, but it wasn’t until she discovered the age of the human ‘patient’ and she saw the images of the defective organ and accompanying neural structures that she was certain. It was with deep dismay and terrible confusion that she said incredulously, “Shalaft’s! My God, that’s Shalaft’s Syndrome!”  
Quickly scrolling down through page after page, she rapidly read how the aliens had finally identified the problem and using technology beyond Beverly’s comprehension, cured the condition, rather than simply waiting until the condition resolved itself as would be the case in any human boy. Although that in itself is almost unheard of. Usually, once a genetically inherited condition is evident, it is present at birth and stays for the life of the afflicted.  
Shalaft’s Syndrome was very, very rare. An inherited disorder, carried by the males in the afflicted line, it becomes evident when the boy reaches the age of four and is very debilitating as it causes a malfunction in how sound is carried from the ear through the cranial nerve and into the brain. So sensitive becomes the aural system that the unfortunate youngster is so averse to any sound, he has to be kept in a sound-proof room as any sound at all, even the slightest, causes unbearable and excruciating pain. There is no known cure as such, but it is known that the condition resolves itself within three or four months, leaving the young boy no worse for his experience, certainly his hearing is undamaged. It is because of the rarity of the condition and the fact that it not only resolves itself without medical intervention and the afflicted is left unharmed that little or no research of the condition has ever taken place.  
The only reason Beverly knew about the condition was that her husband, Jean-Luc Picard, was not only a carrier, but as a little boy, had been a sufferer. Indeed, it was something they had discussed when they decided to have children. Jean-Luc so clearly remembered how terrible the experience had been he actually suggested the use of gender selection to make sure they didn’t have a son as he didn’t want any son of theirs to suffer as he once had, but with Beverly’s gentle reminder of his wish to perpetuate his lineage, he acquiesced, knowing Beverly would do everything she could if they had a son to help him.   
The irony hit Beverly like a punch in the gut. “I wouldn’t care what we had just as long as we had a son...or a daughter.” As the sorrow and despair began to rise, she shook her head and shoved it savagely aside. “No! Not now.”  
It was when she began to read about the other four patients that she quickly realised she was dealing with some kind of hybrid. The onset of the syndrome was much later in life, in the early teens and affected both sexes. And, very telling, the aliens had had no success in treating it. Not only that, but, as Beverly read, it became obvious that the syndrome in the hybrids was not resolving itself.  
“You poor kids! Dear God, how you must be suffering.”  
Beverly chewed on her thumbnail for a few moments, then said quietly, “Computer, display images of the aural systems of the hybrids.”  
When the images appeared, Beverly tapped the screen, bringing up enlargements of each image. Leaning forward, she narrowed her eyes. “Jesus, how the hell am I going to sort this out? I have absolutely no idea how this works!” She covered her mouth with her hand and sighed. Her hand then went to cup her chin. “Okay, back to basics. Computer, display complete anatomy of hybrids.”  
“Unable to comply.”  
“Okay, display images of hybrid patients.”  
“Unable to comply.”  
Now clearly irritated, Beverly gritted her teeth and ground out,   
“Very well, display image of human patient.”  
“Unable to comply.”  
Confused and now very angry, Beverly barked,  
“Why?”  
“That information is not available.”  
“Why the hell not?!”  
“Unknown.”  
“How the fuck to you expect me to do my job, damn you?!” She shouted. Taking a calming breath or two, Beverly settled her anger and frustration. In a much milder tone she asked rhetorically, “Why are you so shy? What are you trying so hard to keep hidden from me?”  
She sat back in her seat, staring at the last image she’d enlarged. “Computer...” She said cautiously, not really expecting her next request to be successful. “Transfer all images of the hybrids’ aural systems and the human’s aural system to the main board in sick bay.”  
When no refusal took place a tentative Beverly left her office to find to her surprise, the images displayed on the large main screen. Tapping a particular image, it enlarged to take up the entire screen. Soon Beverly became so absorbed the passage of time passed as an irrelevance. She failed to notice that sick bay was empty and the doors were locked.

 

Just on two and a half hours after Beverly had left the bridge; Jean-Luc was summoned from the ready room by Will.  
The captain could see by Will’s expression that something of importance had been discovered. To Jean-Luc’s silent enquiry, Will tilted his head and said quietly,  
“Tactical, sir.”  
When both men were at the station, Will pointed at the screen. There Jean-Luc could see an enlarged image of the alien being’s hands. Will explained.  
“It took a while, sir, the computer didn’t see it at first and even then it didn’t recognise what it was seeing, but...have a look at this.”  
At the tap of a pad, the vid played, although extremely slowly. At first, Jean-Luc saw nothing, then his eyes suddenly narrowed and he said quickly, “Computer, freeze image.” He studied what he was seeing then asked the computer to back the vid up. Again he ordered the play to freeze then once more ordered play.  
Will said softly, “Computer increase speed of playback by 5%.”  
Jean-Luc blinked; his mouth opening. Almost to himself he muttered, “Gestural language! My God...it’s so subtle...I can barely see it!”  
In reply Will said quietly, but obviously impressed, “Yes, sir and that’s an enlarged image, played very slowly. Have a look at this. Computer playback at normal speed.”  
The computer complied and Jean-Luc gasped, dragging his eyes from the screen to give Will an incredulous look. “It’s invisible to the naked eye!”  
“Yes, sir, it’s no wonder the computer missed it the first few times.”  
Now using the very familiar gesture of rubbing his fingers over his lower lip, Jean-Luc began to speculate. “So...is it communicating with another being out of sight, who’s transposing the signals into text, or is their level of technological expertise so sophisticated that whatever passes as a computer system for them can read its hand gestures and automatically interpret and generate text...in Standard?”  
The big first officer shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine, Captain. The thing is there’s no way we can communicate with these beings on our terms. As it stands we’re totally dependent on them and their system for communications between us.”  
“But we can hail them.”  
“Yes, sir we can, but it’s up to them whether or not to answer and even if they do, if they choose not to use text, we simply can’t communicate. I doubt even Data could’ve mastered their gestural language. We’ve done some study...” He tapped a few controls which brought up a close-up of one of the being’s long fingers and Jean-Luc’s eyes widened.  
“Good Lord, how many joints does it have?”  
“Well,” Will sighed, “The computer’s not exactly sure. Some of the joints are obvious, but some are discrete and we can’t be absolutely certain of their use, or just how broad the range of movement is, given that we’ve only seen the most minuscule of motions through the gloves but the overall effect is that each of the seven fingers is extraordinarily articulated.”  
“So, unless one possesses hands with fingers like that...” Jean-Luc pointed at the image. “It’s simply not possible to emulate their gestures.”  
“That’s about it, sir.”  
“Damn! This puts a very different slant on things doesn’t it. It’s almost certain that there are humans on that planet that are in need of medical assistance the aliens cannot provide...for whatever reason and now we know that it would be impossible for the humans to have any control over communications with their...hosts. I have to wonder just how long those humans have been there and how they got there.”  
Will directed a sour look at the planet. “And how they came to be sick...or injured.”  
“Indeed.”  
Taking a deep breath, Jean-Luc resisted the urge to tug his uniform tunic down. It was a habitual gesture no longer necessary with the new uniforms, but he missed it.  
“Hail them, Lieutenant.”  
While they waited to see if there would be a response, Jean-Luc said quietly,   
“If they’re willing to let us see them again, I want the computer to record everything and go over it again, paying close attention to the hands.”  
“Aye, Captain.” Will said softly.  
Although their eyes were directed at the console screen, it was the forward viewer that flicked from the image of the planet below to that of an alien being. As it was exactly same in appearance to the previous one, the Enterprise officers had no idea if it was the same being, or another one. Walking with unruffled calm, Jean-Luc took up a position just behind the helm and ops stations.  
“Am I addressing the same individual as before?”  
The being’s hands rose as the text appeared at the bottom of the screen.  
“That is of no consequence, Captain Picard. What is it you wish of me?”  
“I have many questions.”  
“I’m sure you have, Captain, however unfortunately it is not possible to answer them.”  
Jean-Luc’s expression hardened a little and he began to raise a hand, but the scrolling text silenced him.  
“Please, Captain, your protest will change nothing. We invited you and requested help and through your organisation’s generosity and mercy, you came and we thank you, we are grateful, but when Doctor Crusher has completed her task, we will ask you to leave and if possible, not return. We do not wish to share anything of or about ourselves with you. This is not done to insult or through any malevolent intent; rather simply that we wish to be left alone. We knew when we contacted your organisation that there was a very real chance that by opening a ‘dialogue’ with you the risk was that your species’ innate curiosity would demand that you know more...indeed, when we assisted the two damaged ships in the recent past and again when we intervened to try and save your ships under attack from the Borg, we knew we were showing our hand, as you so quaintly put it, but we are a peaceful people, Captain and could not stand by and do nothing while intelligent beings were being slaughtered.  
“You want to know why we requested a healer familiar with humans? I cannot give you that information, Captain. I can assure you no humans are being held captive, indeed no one has ever been compelled to stay if they did not wish to, but as for those not of our world, I am sorry, but you cannot stay or learn anything about us. If that frustrates you, then I can only apologise and reiterate that you are under no obligation to stay, nor are you or your ship in any danger. We have never harmed anyone who posed no threat to us, especially no one who has been kind enough to respond to a request for assistance.”  
Jean-Luc hid his disappointment well, but his tone was a little tight.  
“I’m very sorry you feel that way. You’re obviously well aware of the Federation of Planets and Starfleet, indeed, your access to our computer core has furnished you with a great deal of information, not only about humans, but all the worlds of the Federation. I think it a great pity you are not willing to share, if not your knowledge, then at least your friendship.”  
Although the being remained motionless and Jean-Luc couldn’t discern any movements of its fingers, he got the unmistakable impression the being was smiling.  
“Captain, think of it this way. We have a ‘Prime Directive’ also. By doing what we think is right we are trying to protect you. Of course you have only my words to convince you, but I assure you it is the truth. We have already interfered too much. The ‘enhancement’ of the computer cores of the ships we rendered aid to was a mistake, but one we felt at the time was necessary. We simply could not think of a better way to equip those ships in such a way as to ensure their safe return to your home world. But you know, Captain Picard, what happens when technology is introduced to those who are not ready for it. I understand the Federation, indeed most of the species in the known galaxy possess some form of sophistication in technology and we are also aware of species that surpass us in technology, but we have to take due care. We too learned, as you did, what damage can be done through even the best of intentions.”  
The being seemed to think and for a few moments and there was silence as the bridge crew waited for more text. It eventually came and Jean-Luc sighed as he read.  
“Captain, I offer our friendship, but not that of an ally. We do not condone violence; that is violence undertaken for belligerent purposes. We do recognise the right of any species to resort (as a last measure) to violence in self defence and with that in mind, you can rest assured if we find any benevolent beings in spacecraft suffering difficulties they cannot resolve themselves, we will render assistance. I hasten to stress we are not taking ‘sides’. Our assistance will be given to any in need, but if those we help are of a hostile demeanour, after they’ve been given assistance, they will be escorted out of our system and far away. And that, Captain is all I can offer.”  
Jean-Luc bowed his head and clasped his hands behind his back, his thumb tapping a measured beat.  
“I understand your stance, in fact I applaud it, but technology aside, will you not at least tell us about your world? What do you call yourselves? What do you call your world? How does your system of government work? Do you have a system of government? How does...”  
The text began again.  
“Captain...your curiosity is commendable as is your persistence, but I think I have said all that is necessary. I am closing this communication now, but I will answer if you wish it again. However please confine your communications to that which is relevant.”  
The image blinked off to be replaced with the vista of the planet.  
Letting out a slow breath, Jean-Luc rubbed his brow, saying softly, “Damn.”  
Will appeared at his side and said softly, “As annoying as that was, it’s kinda hard getting angry with them.”  
“Oh, I agree.” Said Jean-Luc ruefully. “I’m just thinking how that must be how we sound when we refuse to help the less technologically advanced. How the hell does text manage to impart such...”  
Will grinned. “Smugness? Superiority?”  
Shaking his head, Jean-Luc’s face showed his irritation. “No, Will! That’s just it. There was no smugness or superiority. I discerned...sorrow and pity! I think they do want to share but for some reason they can’t.”   
Throwing his arms up in a very uncharacteristic display of frustration, Jean-Luc glared at the planet. He let his arms drop and shook his head, saying sadly,  
“We’d done some utterly dreadful things before we finally came to realise we needed something like the Prime Directive. I’m getting an awful feeling they’ve done much worse before they too realised the folly of their actions.”  
“So you think they really do want to protect us.”  
“Yes, I do, and I think it pains them to do it.”  
Letting the matter go, Jean-Luc sighed and looked up at his exec. “You have the bridge, number one. I’m going down to sick bay to see how Doctor Crusher is doing.”

 

Jean-Luc heard the low murmuring of voices as he stepped out of the turbolift. Frowning, he strode along the corridor, rounding the corner to find a knot of several crew gathered outside the main doors of sick bay.  
On seeing their captain’s approach, they all straightened and adopted a respectful demeanour. Not bothering to seek the senior officer, an annoyed captain said curtly, “Report! What are you all doing out here in the corridor?”  
Stepping through the little crowd, a lieutenant came to stand before his CO. “We don’t know what’s going on, Captain. The doors are locked and Doctor Crusher isn’t answering our calls.”  
“I take it you’ve tried the other doors?”  
“Yes, Captain. They’re all locked.”  
Lifting his head, Jean-Luc said firmly, “Picard to Crusher.”  
Nothing. He tried again, a trace of worry in his voice. “This is Captain Picard. Doctor Crusher, respond please.”  
Still nothing.  
“Computer, unlock sick bay doors, authorisation, Picard delta omega two eight.”  
“Unable to comply.”  
Narrowing his eyes, Jean-Luc tilted his head.  
“Explain.”  
“Unable to comply.”  
Muttering darkly, “Merde!” Jean-Luc turned to the lieutenant and said curtly, “How long has this been going on?”  
“Not long, sir. We’ve only been here five minutes or so, it’s the beginning of our shift.”  
“Were you going to contact security? Or the bridge?”  
Hearing the tightly controlled anger in his captain’s voice made the lieutenant swallow nervously. “Yes, Captain. We were about to call the bridge when you arrived.”  
Coming to a quick decision, Jean-Luc quelled his rising anger and alarm and said quietly,  
“Very well. Stay here, I will return shortly.”  
“Yes, sir.”  
Jean-Luc strode quickly down the corridor until he came to a small observation lounge. Activating the screen of the wall terminal he tapped his comm. badge and called the bridge.  
“This is Picard. Hail the planet and route the call through to the port observation lounge on deck 7!”  
He was so deep in thought he never heard the reply. Pacing restlessly back and forth in front of the screen, he only halted when the image of an alien appeared. Before any text appeared he barked, “You have imprisoned my CMO in her own sick bay! What the hell is going on? You assured me you had no hostile intent and that we could leave whenever we pleased. That would be a little difficult with our CMO held captive aboard her own damned ship!”  
The being’s hands appeared and the text scrolled.   
“We apologise, Captain it was necessary.”  
“Why?!”  
“It is the very...delicate and private nature of what we require of her, Captain. It is imperative that no one but she see the information we have sent.”  
Doing his best to calm himself, Jean-Luc relaxed his fisted hands and tried to ease his tense shoulders. “You stated that there would be an automatic shut down of the sick bay computer if anyone came within five metres of Doctor Crusher when she was accessing the information you sent. That implies her staff could at least be in sick bay.”  
“Yes, it does, but that changed.”  
“How? Why?”  
“Doctor Crusher requested the computer to display images and information on the main viewer in sick bay. Under those conditions it would not be possible for anyone to be in sick bay with the doctor.”  
“So how did you manage to empty the facility?”  
“We waited until near the ‘shift’ end, then informed the staff by text to vacate the area.”  
Pursing his lips, Jean-Luc’s eyes darkened in anger. “My crew wouldn’t obey any order so arbitrarily put to them. Someone would’ve requested verification of an order such as that, especially as it didn’t come from Doctor Crusher herself. As CMO, she is in command of sick bay.”  
“The order did come from Doctor Crusher, she just wasn’t aware of it.”  
“So you’re manipulating us.”  
“Captain Picard, I have explained why we acted as we did. I must ask you...Is your anger because of our perceived manipulation or your inherent desire to protect your mate?”  
Jean-Luc really had to struggle for control.  
“You learned quite a lot when you scanned the computer core, didn’t you. Ship’s logs, personal logs, personnel files, service records...you know as much about us as we do. Yet you refuse to do us the courtesy of reciprocating, while at the same time, you do as you please to achieve your aims. That is hardly equitable, especially considering you have already admitted you asked for our help!”  
“I am sorry you see it that way, Captain. I can only reiterate, no one, not you, any of your crew or your ship is in any danger whatsoever. And Doctor Crusher is well and completely unharmed.”  
“When can I see her...or contact her?”  
“Very soon, Captain. Rest assured we would not be so foolish as to alienate the very person we require so much of.”  
Defeated and frustrated, Jean-Luc sighed and ran his hand over his scalp. “Very well, it’s not as if I can do anything about it, but in future, so as we understand each other, please do me the courtesy of informing me if and when you choose to isolate any of my crew.”  
“Agreed, Captain...and again, my apologies.”  
Returning to the gathered crew at sick bay, Jean-Luc quietly dismissed them, then tapped his comm. badge. “This is the captain. Until further notice, any crew requiring medical attention report to the auxiliary sick bay on deck 16. Duty doctors and staff, please take your stations at that facility. Picard out.” He took a few steps then paused. “Computer, inform me immediately when main sickbay doors unlock.”  
It was a troubled man who made his way back to the bridge. No doubt his exec would have a lot of questions.

 

Having been staring intently at the screen for so long, with the occasional reference to the notes, Beverly’s eyes had become a quite gritty. She rubbed them irritably and blinked several times to refocus, the frown, by now a perpetual feature, deepening.  
Her sigh was one of frustration. “Dammit, Shalaft’s makes no bloody sense anyway! Inherited genetic disorders are almost exclusively carried by the females. I wonder just how far back one has to go to find the original mutation?”  
Knowing she’d never find the answer to that particular question, the more Beverly studied the images of both the human and the hybrid children, the more she realised she was going to have to speak to her husband. But...how to do that without breaking her word to the aliens? And how could she get what she wanted from him? She needed a fresh DNA sample. Fresh because what she was looking for was hidden and she felt that the existing samples on file might not be as pronounced as they might be if seen fresh. It was a long-shot, in fact she couldn’t actually base it on any sound medical information, but something told her what she was looking for she just might find in her husband’s body.  
Stepping back and arching, kneading her fingers into the small of her spine, she turned from the screen, saying absently, “Screen off. Reroute all images and text back to my office terminal.”  
It was only then that Beverly finally realised she was alone. Sick bay was never silent and its preternatural stillness unnerved her. She spun quickly, her eyes darting everywhere, but as much as she looked, she saw no one. Quick, long strides carried her to the main doors which obediently hissed open. Out in the corridor, Beverly looked left and right and again, saw no one. For one hideous moment she thought she was alone on the ship. When she tapped her comm. badge there was the slightest tremor in her hand and voice.  
“Crusher to Picard.”  
“Picard here. Are you all right, Beverly?”  
The relief at hearing his voice made Beverly suddenly slump with her back braced against the bulkhead. Lifting her head, she closed her eyes and swallowed before she replied.  
“Yes, Captain, I’m fine.”  
“You sound very tired.”  
It was then that Beverly realised had no idea how long she’d been in sick bay. To that end she asked, “What’s the time, Captain?”  
“Four twenty two.”  
She snorted softly.  
“Which day?”  
Jean-Luc’s voice changed. Gone was the Captain. Her husband spoke to her. “Come home, Beverly.”  
“I’m on my way. Crusher out.”  
Jean-Luc was already up. As requested, the computer had alerted him the second the sick bay doors unlocked. He’d been dozing in his quarters, having been reluctantly sent there by Counsellor Adams when the man had discovered just how long his captain had been on continuous duty.  
Jean-Luc had actually left their quarters to go to sick bay when Beverly had called him. He now reversed course and was putting a light meal on the dining table when Beverly shuffled inside. He left what he was doing and went to her immediately, taking her elbow and guiding her to the table, saying softly, “I know you’re exhausted but please, try to eat something and have a shower. Trust me; you’ll sleep better if you can manage it.”  
Offering a wry smile, Beverly picked up the fork and dutifully ate a few mouthfuls before looking over at her hovering husband and saying around her food, “Isn’t that what I usually say to you?”  
“Doesn’t matter who said it, it’s sound advice.”  
Softly grunting, Beverly did her best to finish the meal, but couldn’t. However she did eat enough to satisfy Jean-Luc, so she wasn’t surprised when he again took her elbow and eased her to her feet and ushered her straight through the bedroom and into the ensuite. He helped her undress and it wasn’t until the spray hit her aching back they she realised he was in the stall with her. They had both enjoyed the experience of washing each other, but that was usually a prelude to sex, but not this time. Jean-Luc’s hands moved with practised efficiency, his touch gentle but definitely not sexual in nature. When he shampooed her hair his massaging fingers almost made Beverly drift off whilst still standing.   
He guided a dazed Beverly from the stall and dried her, not bothering overly much on her hair, it would have to dry on its own, he simply towelled it enough so it wouldn’t be cold.  
Standing behind her and taking both elbows, Jean-Luc steered Beverly to the bed and helped her to lie down. As he pulled the covers over her he knew she was already asleep.  
Shrugging into a robe, Jean-Luc went to his desk and activated his monitor, while saying softly, “Bridge, this is Picard.”  
A voice he couldn’t immediately place answered and he didn’t even bother to try and remember who was the senior officer of the watch.  
“Hail the planet and route the connection to my quarters.”  
“Aye, Captain. Hailing now.”  
The reply took only a few seconds. His monitor glowed and suddenly brightened to reveal the by-now familiar form of an alien being. Text began instantly.  
“Captain Picard. How may I help you?”  
“My CMO, Doctor Crusher has just returned to her quarters and she is exhausted. You know enough about humans to know we cannot continue to work without sufficient food or adequate sleep. Doctor Crusher had had neither for too long. At present she has eaten and is now deeply asleep. May I ask that you allow her to rest for the duration of the next 24 hours?”  
There was an ominous silence before new text scrolled across the screen.  
“You are correct in your assertion that we are aware of the needs of humans and we apologise if we inadvertently gave the doctor the erroneous assumption that she was required to work beyond her physical and psychological limits. That was never our intention. Of course she may rest as long as she needs. Please let us know when she has recovered enough to return to her work.”  
Holding up his hand to forestall the cessation of the link, Jean-Luc offered a placating smile.  
“It is not entirely your fault. Doctor Crusher is very dedicated to her work and when given a medical puzzle to solve, she often becomes so absorbed she forgets her own needs. I’m sure that after she has rested she will be very eager to continue. Rest assured I will inform you when she is once again ready to work.”  
“Thank you, Captain.”  
The screen went dark and Jean-Luc sighed, his eyes drifting to the closed bedroom door. “Now, Beverly my dear, just how am I going to keep you away from sick bay for 24 hours? Presuming of course you don’t sleep the entire time!”  
He was still shaking his head with mild amusement when he carefully slipped into bed and draped one arm over his slumbering wife. He too quickly succumbed to much needed sleep and he knew both of them would benefit from being together.

 

The alarm, which Jean-Luc had forgotten to cancel the night before made Beverly flinch when it sounded and Jean-Luc to scowl. He kept his eyes closed and his voice was rough as he barked softly,  
“Off!”  
Now reluctantly awake, Jean-Luc lay quietly, listening to Beverly’s breathing, but he soon knew she too was awake, but only just. With a bit of luck...he thought...she just might....But she stretched and mewed with a hint of complaint as she registered stiff muscles. It was that mild discomfort that suddenly made her stiffen as her mind came on line. She would’ve immediately left the bed if Jean-Luc hadn’t tightened his arm around her to prevent it. Her hand gripped his arm and by the sound of her voice, Jean-Luc knew she was annoyed.  
“Not now, for Christssakes, Jean-Luc! I have to get up!”  
He was careful to adopt the right tone of voice and choose his words with judicious wisdom, because any mistake would only lead to a very distasteful confrontation.  
“I’ve been in touch with the aliens, Beverly and they want you to rest...and so do I.”  
Trying to look over her shoulder to glare at her husband, she was stymied by her wildly tangled hair.   
“I don’t care what they say or what you think, I have work to do!”  
“Yes you do, but you cannot continue without rest. You know it, I know it and so do the aliens.”  
More protests were forming until Jean-Luc said as firmly but gently as he could, “It’s an order, Beverly.”  
Seething anger was the first thing Beverly felt, quickly followed by outrage then abruptly, desperation. Turning over so they were face-to-face, Beverly strove for calm. She knew her husband and the captain would listen to reason.  
“Jean-Luc, I can’t give you the details, but four beings are suffering terribly and I must help them! Now you must see I can’t do that if I’m prevented from working!”  
Patiently, and showing no condescension, Jean-Luc said, “Of course I see that, Beverly, but by the same token you must see that you simply can’t go on as you have been. Even before you began this...work...for the aliens you were exhausted. Tell me this, what good will you be to the beings you wish to help if you burn out?” He took a deep breath and said as gently as he could, “Beverly, you’ve told me the same thing often enough. It’s time you heeded your own advice.”  
Not willing to give up, Beverly snarled, “And you’re prepared to use your rank to order me to rest?”  
He sighed, knowing these confrontations were inevitable, but that didn’t make them any easier to deal with. “Yes.” He said softly.  
Defeated by his logic and her own damned words, Beverly let out a forceful breath and rolled onto her back, flinging one arm across her eyes. Jean-Luc waited. He knew she would come around in her own time. It took almost half an hour of unbroken silence which at first had been tense and brittle, but slowly eased until he knew she’d accepted the situation. Or so he thought.  
Her voice was a welcome breaking of the silence. “So what am I expected to do during my enforced rest?”  
Nuzzling his nose into her neck, not to arouse, simply as a gesture of affection and gratitude, Jean-Luc rumbled, “Well how about you stay where you are, I’ll go and get some breakfast and we can eat it in bed?”  
“And afterwards?”  
“We play it by ear.”  
She frowned. “You’re taking time off too?”  
“Uh huh.”   
That gave her pause for thought.  
Tilting her head, Beverly raised her eyebrows and nodded. “Okay, but I do have to get up. I’m busting.”  
To that, Jean-Luc just snorted and shook his head. “Yes, well you go first; I’ll be right behind you.”  
They eventually met back in bed, sitting up with trays on their thighs. With her mouth almost full of croissant and strawberry jam, Beverly muttered, “So...how long?”  
Barely able to decipher her speech, Jean-Luc managed to guess her question. “Twenty-four hours.”  
Beverly rolled her eyes and Jean-Luc thought she said something like... “Could’ve been worse I ‘spose.”  
With their meal out of the way, Beverly stared glumly at the wall, deliberately ignoring her husband. He endured her attempt at unsettling him and softly ran his finger down her face.  
“It won’t work, Beverly. Just accept it.”  
Mercurial by nature, giving in without a fight wasn’t the way she did things, but she had to admit he was right, however, although she made an effort to appear to have acceded, she had other plans. But for now, she would let things lie. By mutual silent consent, they snuggled back under the covers, adopting their usual position of Beverly’s back spooned against the front of Jean-Luc’s body. They’d been drifting for a little while, dozing here and there, when Jean-Luc stirred on hearing Beverly’s voice.  
“Mmm?” He hummed, his eyes closed.  
Clearing her throat, Beverly said quietly, “Did you really mean it when you said you’d tell me about all your sexual exploits?”  
She felt his forehead bump the back of her head and his chest expand and subside as he sighed deeply. His voice held a trace of resignation. “Yes.”  
In the ensuing silence, Beverly smiled to herself and began to count. She got to thirty-six before she heard him say with tired defeat, “What now? What is it want to know this time?”  
Deliberately not turning over, a very mischievous Beverly asked baldly, “Have you ever had anal sex?”  
He actually stopped breathing for a moment or two. Then, very warily he asked, “Beverly...you don’t want me to...”  
Her smile grew into a grin and she couldn’t keep the giggle out of her voice. “No! Oh, God, no!”  
She couldn’t see her husband’s face, but she knew exactly what expression he was wearing. His eyes would be closed and his mouth slightly ajar as he breathed out a long sigh of relief. His relief, however, was short lived.  
“So, have you?”  
“No. Yes. Oh, God...sort of.”  
Now Beverly turned over and Jean-Luc, despite his consternation, couldn’t help but smile at seeing that absolute delight in his wife’s eyes. He let out a plosive breath and shook his head. “Jesus, Beverly...”  
Kissing the tip of his nose, the wicked woman slid one hand around his neck and gently massaged his tense muscles.  
“Jean-Luc, you can’t honestly think I’m going to let that go?”  
“No, I don’t suppose you will.”  
“So?”  
“Oh, all right. It was a very long time ago. I was a Lt. JG on the Stargazer and a delegation of aliens had been invited aboard to take a ten day tour around the local space within easy reach of Earth. They were being courted to join the Federation and the delegation consisted of two main representatives, a male and a female and their female assistant, at least that’s what I think she was; I never actually found out exactly what her role was.  
“I was on bridge duty, at the helm if my memory serves me, and as she walked by our eyes met. Now I’m not saying I heard violins or saw fireworks, but there was a definite and, I believe, mutual attraction. She smiled and I thought; well, now that’s interesting.  
“As that was the first day of the trip I ended up seeing her quite a few times over the next few days and eventually it became clear that she didn’t actually have all that much to do and my ever observant captain saw that we’d been you know...”  
“Making goo goo eyes, Jean-Luc?”  
He sighed with great forbearance. “Shut up, Beverly.”  
She just giggled.  
“Anyway...as I was saying, my captain decided she was an encumbrance and having gained permission from her superiors, and with not so much as a ‘how do you do?’ to me, he foisted her upon me. My instructions were to ‘Keep her entertained.’.  
“So, that didn’t leave much. She’d already been on a tour of the ship, at least the ‘official’ tour, so I thought I’d take her on an unofficial tour.”  
Beverly frowned. “Which means what, exactly?”  
He chuckled softly. “Actually it hasn’t changed much over the years. An unofficial tour takes one into the bowels of the ship and shows the guest how the lower ranks live.”  
“Ah...the ‘lower decks’.”  
“Indeed. We’d just finished with the port nacelle couplings when she suddenly asked to see my quarters. Now that posed a problem, because in those days on a ship the size of the Stargazer, Lt’s JG shared four to a suite. I explained that, but she insisted, so off we went and sure enough two of my roommates were ‘home’, one asleep and one studying. I nearly phasered my shipmate when he caught my eye, grinned and winked lasciviously, giving a very cocky ‘thumbs up’. Luckily, she didn’t see any of it, in fact once I’d directed her to my area of the quarters she spent quite a bit of time paying a lot of attention to my few personal possessions, which only served to both impress me and endear her to me.  
“I didn’t see her for a few days then the captain announced he was hosting a formal dinner in the crew lounge, which meant all lower ranks...make yourselves scarce. I was on my way to my quarters having just come off duty when she met me in the corridor and surprised me by telling me she was on her way to find me. She took my hand and began to lead me through the ship. Of course I was intrigued, but as she neared the delegates’ quarters I became decidedly nervous.  
“That area was most definitely out-of-bounds, especially for lowly Lt’s JG! So I came to a halt. She looked at me in confusion and I shook my head, telling her I could not set foot in the VIP guest quarters. She simply ignored me and tugged at my hand, but when I refused to move, she scolded me, saying that I couldn’t refuse as she was part of the official delegation and I had been ordered to entertain her!”  
“God, what gall!” said an indignant Beverly.  
“Oh yes. Attitude was something she was full of.”  
“So?”  
“Well under those circumstances, what choice did I have? I went with her.”  
“Right...so what happened?”  
“Nothing. Not at first. She left me momentarily while I looked around, mouth agape at the palatial (by our ship’s standards) quarters, then she was tugging my hand again and ushering me to sit with her on the sofa. She’d procured three bottles of something...she assured me it wasn’t alcoholic and I could drink it, so we spent...I don’t know...a couple of hours just drinking and talking, but eventually the talk become...you know...erotic, and the next thing I know is she’s doing something very strange with her mouth. At first I thought she was going to kiss me, but just before our lips met, something emerged from inside her mouth and latched on to my mouth.   
“My first reaction was to pull away, but she was remarkably strong and pulled me closer and as I slowly realised she wasn’t going to hurt me, I relaxed and quickly found what she was doing was actually very pleasant. It was sort of like a passionate kiss, but whatever it was she put in my mouth was softer and more slippery than a tongue and it had a very piquant taste.  
“Things progressed pretty quickly but it wasn’t until she led me into the bedroom that I recognised that it wasn’t her bedroom, but the main representative’s bedroom. I started to shake my head; I mean it was bad enough that I was in those quarters, about to have sex with one of the official delegates...but to use the main bed? My God!”  
“So what did you do?”  
Jean-Luc snorted, a rueful smile on his face. “All rational thought vanished the moment she took my penis in her hand and led me into the room.”  
“Ha! She led you by your cock? Ha!”  
“Not one of my better moments, to be sure.”  
“So?”  
“Well...Beverly, can’t you work it out? We had sex.”  
“Details, Jean-Luc. I want details! When I asked you if you’d ever had anal sex...you said no. Then you said yes. Then you said... ”  
“I know what I said!”   
“So...give!”  
Shaking his head, Jean-Luc sighed and closed his eyes. “All right. When we got naked, we were both a little shocked I think. Clothed, she didn’t look too....different, you know, basically humanoid, nothing extraordinary, nothing exotic, but naked? My God! And by the way she looked at my body, I’m pretty sure she was thinking the same thing. But we were both highly aroused, at least I was and she seemed to be, so we climbed onto the bed. I wanted to indulge in foreplay. By that time in my life I’d begun to learn about the delights of technique, but when I attempted to find her erogenous zones she would have none of it, slapping my hands away and making it very clear she wanted me to penetrate her right there and then.  
“Trouble was I had absolutely no idea where to put my cock! So rather than rummage around and spoil the mood, I prodded about until I slipped inside her and happily began to...you know...”  
“Fuck?” Beverly said saucily.  
“Have sex.” Jean-Luc replied dryly.  
“Yeah, whatever...so...?”  
“I was in the wrong orifice.”  
Beverly gasped, her hand going to her mouth. “Oh, God, you weren’t?”  
“Yes I was and my partner was not very happy about it. In fact she let me know by slapping my face and abusing me. She was so incandescent with outrage that it took me a moment or two to work out why she was so upset. I immediately withdrew and assumed the night was over. But I was wrong. She grabbed my cock and using her free hand, shifted some flesh about and exposed the correct orifice. I got the message loud and clear and began to penetrate her, but she grabbed my arse and pulled me so hard I just disappeared inside her. By this time I was operating on automatic, even the unsettling fact that she was cool inside didn’t put me off. I started to thrust and very quickly I saw that it was having absolutely no effect on her. I might as well have put my elbow in her ear rather than my cock inside her. She was entertaining herself by using her hands to stimulate something on her chest. About that time I wanted out. Out of her and out of the quarters. Even at the worst of my libertine ways, I always shared my sexual experiences with my partner. I mean I derived a lot of my pleasure from knowing I was giving pleasure, okay, that’s my male ego talking I suppose, but right then I would’ve had a more meaningful experience if I were masturbating because at least I’d have a willing partner, if only in my mind, sharing the act with me.”  
“Jesus.”  
“Jesus, indeed.”  
“So what happened?”  
“I came. And to my everlasting surprise, she seemed to reach some kind of peak herself, but believe me it had nothing to do with me. Then things became decidedly awkward. She looked up at me and seemed to be waiting for something. Now, as usual, I was still hard and it crossed my mind, as unlikely as it seemed that she might want more. So rather tentatively, I started again. Well, that didn’t go down to well. She slapped me again and hissed vehemently, Cleanse me!  
“You can imagine I had no idea what she that meant. Did she want me to bathe her? All of her or just her...bits? No idea. So I did nothing, which only made her angrier. But...she finally worked out I didn’t understand, so speaking to me as if I was a backward child, she said, enunciating clearly, Use your fluid to wash out your deposit.”  
“That gave me pause to think. What the hell was that supposed to mean? My provincial brain kicked in and I said, as was usual in those days, the first thing that came to mind.”  
“Which was?” Asked Beverly breathlessly.  
“You want to douche?” He sighed. “Not helpful. Not very helpful at all. Especially as I had to explain, then describe what a douche was. She was outraged all over again and disgusted. How could you even suggest such a hideous thing? She demanded. You humans are disgusting! She yelled at the top of her voice.”  
Softly, Beverly said, “Jean-Luc, where the hell did you learn about douches? They’ve not been used for centuries. There’s not even a medical use for anything like that any more. The only reason I know what a douche is, is because of my interest in medical history.”  
“Beverly, douche is a French word. I knew what a douche was from a very young age. My chums and I used to take great delight in discovering all the smuttiest, dirtiest words in our native language we could find. Although douche isn’t exactly a dirty word, it certainly titillated us.”  
“Oh, okay.”  
“Anyway, I said all right if not a douche then what? And she said again, slowly like I was some kind of moron, Use your biological fluid to wash out your deposit. And that’s when my penny dropped. She wanted me to piss inside her.”  
Beverly gasped. “No! She didn’t?!”  
“Yes, she did. And as if that wasn’t a big enough problem, I knew time had been happily ticking away and the delegates, in the company of my captain, were due back any moment.”  
“Well what did you do?”  
Jean-Luc grunted softly and shook his head. “Well, first I had to get rid of my erection because, as you know, I can’t pee if I’m hard. That took a bit of time and all the while my lovely partner was getting more and more impatient and aggressive. She was slapping my arms and yelling. That made it very difficult to concentrate and when the slaps turned to punches I lost my composure and told her if she didn’t stop, I’d reciprocate in kind. Thankfully she got the message. She stopped hitting me, but she kept yelling at me.   
“You wouldn’t have hit her.” Said Beverly with amusement.  
“No I wouldn’t, but she didn’t know that, did she? Now, I don’t know if you’ve ever had to pee in a situation where your body says...no, you can’t pee there, even though your brain is shouting, for fuck’s sake, piss! But I can tell you it isn’t easy and having an alien woman abusing you at the same time really doesn’t help matters.  
“To be honest, I think my eventual success was one of my finest moments, at least as far as self-control goes. It started as a dribble, but I got it going and eventually I had a good stream happening. Now through all this I’d had my eyes shut tight, but as I pissed, she immediately quietened and I began to hear the unmistakable sounds of pleasure. So I opened one eye and sure enough she was stimulating herself again and just as I finished, (it was a long pee, we’d had a lot to drink) she peaked again. And that was the first time she showed any sign that she’d enjoyed herself.  
“You must realise the frightful mess we...I’d made. And just to make matters even worse, her body began to release the most repugnant smell. I gratefully disengaged but before I could do anything she dashed off the bed and into the ensuite, all but ordering me to clean up!

“So, I used one sheet to do my best to clean myself and then I changed the bed, dumping all the soiled bedding in the recycler. She came out of the bathroom just as I remembered, thankfully as it turned out, to order the computer to scrub the air in the quarters. My god, the stink! Sex, urine and her...odour...there was no doubt something had taken place. Anyway, I grabbed my uniform and rushed into the bathroom, fully expecting the officials to return at any second.”  
“And? Did they?”  
“I so very nearly got away with it. I had a quick sonic shower and I had just put my briefs on when I heard the captain’s voice.”  
“Oh, God! What did you do?”  
“There wasn’t much I could do. I dressed as quickly as I could, activated the bio waste unit, washed my hands and came out with my hands wet as if I’d just visited the head.”  
“And? What did he do?”  
“The look my captain gave me should’ve made me turn into a block of ice. I offered a small, respectful bow and muttered a very quiet, good evening and legged it. The next morning I reported for duty on the bridge and five minutes after I’d taken my station I was summoned to the ready room. My captain was very unhappy man and I bore the brunt of his anger.  
“I was kicked off the bridge and for the next three and a half months I didn’t see any deck higher than just above the keel.”  
He sighed deeply and with obvious regret. “You know what really got me, Beverly?”  
“No, what?”  
“The knowledge that I’d let my captain down. That really rankled. It ate at me and by God, I worked bloody hard to show him that I wasn’t the fool he thought I was.”  
“And did you succeed?”  
“Yes, eventually, but I still regret disappointing him as I did.”  
They were quiet for a time before Beverly said softly, “You felt like you disappointed your father all over again.”  
“Yes, I suppose I did.”  
“So what happened to the female?”  
He shrugged. “No idea. The delegation left the ship three days later and they never did join the Federation, although we did enter into a trade agreement with them which is still in effect to this day. Oh...and I did eventually discover the intricacies of their sex act.”  
“Oh, now you’re going to have to tell me that!”  
He chuckled. “Very well, if I must.”  
“Oh, goodie!”  
Rolling his eyes, Jean-Luc couldn’t help but smile. “It seems their species gained control over their fertility a very long time ago, but whether it was by accident, science or simply design, I don’t know. I found out that as far as pleasure goes, that was up to the individual. Each was responsible for their own. The act was not a shared one like ours. As for fertility control, essentially it was left to the female to decide whether or not she wished to conceive. If she didn’t then the male was required to ‘cleanse her’ but...not only did urinating into her reproductive tract act as a douche, it appears that the male’s urine contains what we’d think of as a spermicide. Now I’m not suggesting they actually produce sperm, I’m just using the term to describe whatever the living component the biological deposit contained.  
“Over time, it would seem that the process became pleasurable for the females. There has been some speculation as to whether or not this is psychological, in that in exercising the right...or power...over their mates in being the one who decided if conception is to occur afforded them a physical response, or if it’s simply that they found the physical sensation of the presumably body-temperature urine, in contrast to the cool environment of the interior of the female produced a very pleasant feeling...or perhaps it’s a combination of both. Personally I found that intriguing, but in practice I found it very distasteful.”  
Beverly’s steady and measured gaze piqued Jean-Luc’s curiosity. His half smile spoke volumes.   
“What?”  
“You don’t see it do you.”  
Now wary, Jean-Luc asked quietly,  
“What? What is it I don’t see?”  
Beverly smiled and gave him a tender kiss, making sure she relaxed him.  
“Jean-Luc you are two people. But also just one”  
Offering a soft snort, Jean-Luc raised one eyebrow. “That’s nothing new, Beverly. That could be said of anybody, you know that. We have our own perception of ourselves, then there’s the way we want people to see us, the way we hope people see us, the way we actually are...the list is endless.”  
“You know damn well that’s not what I meant.”  
Beverly had just trodden on a very sensitive area and Jean-Luc was not amused. His eyes darkened and he said flippantly, “I do hope you’re not referring to MPD?”  
A little wary of his sudden mood shift, Beverly decided to go along with it, but she still had an important point to make.  
“We both know Multi Personality Disorder has been virtually unknown for over two hundred years. You read far too many old books.”  
Pinching his nose, then sniffing, Jean-Luc didn’t really want to have this discussion, but he knew, like a hungry dog with a meaty bone, Beverly was not going to let it go. However, that didn’t mean he had to make it easy for her.  
“Then,” He said rather imperiously, “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”  
Very gently Beverly traced her fingertips across and around the features of his face, the light stubble of his morning beard feeling like coarse sand paper. “Yes, you do. What I want to know is why it upsets you to talk about it?”  
Rolling onto his back, Jean-Luc fixed his gaze on the ceiling. Silence settled as a very subtle war of attrition began. It was an old strategy between them and all that was required to bring an end to the stand-off was patience. And because of their natures, it was usually Jean-Luc who won. Not this time.  
Beverly knew he had conceded when he rubbed his forehead and sighed. His voice was a low rumble.  
“When I entered the Academy I was so naive. I had enjoyed a good, well-rounded education, indeed I’d spent time in England attending some very good senior schools, despite my father’s strenuous objections, my dear mother had seen my potential and did what she could to foster it, but schooling...knowledge in general as expressed in subjects like history and geography...facts and figures, yes, that’s helpful, but living, Beverly...experience...not only did I hunger for it, the frustration of being denied it almost drove me mad. So yes, I escaped to the Academy and it was really only fortunate happenstance that it was my desire to belong to Starfleet and live a life among the stars that I ended up there. I was so desperate to get away from home, if I’d failed a second time I would’ve signed on to a freighter or even a garbage scow...anything to break free...and you know what? My only regret, even in the face of the failure to reconcile with my father before he died, greater than that was the hurt I must have caused my mother.  
“When I look back now, I realise my mother did what she did for me in her own attempt to keep me, if not at the vineyard then in France, or at least on Earth. When I read her correspondence now, I see what I didn’t see all those years ago...the subtext, the underlying pleas for me to come home, because in abandoning her, I left her with Father and Robert. I’m not saying they didn’t love her or treat her with respect, love and kindness, they did, but my brother was my father’s son and I was my mother’s. I suppose all mothers feel the same way about their youngest, especially when that youngster is victimised.  
“So, I escaped and abandoned the only person who had ever believed in me and I fetched up at the Academy, my head filled with God knows what and promptly fed on anything and everything just as a famished person would devour a meal.  
“And of course that meant sex. At the time that was to me the greatest adventure I could think of. I was enthralled...perhaps even slightly addicted.” He snorted and rubbed his eyes. “Self delusion is so destructive. Here I am telling you how promiscuous I was and yet through all my sexual experiences then and including up to now, I remain a provincial at heart.  
“I know how diverse sexuality is...how utterly endless are they ways of expressing one’s desires and needs and yes, I have experimented, but I was never comfortable with extremes. I’m not judging, not at all, what anyone does, even violent SM, provided it’s consensual, then that’s no one’s business but the people involved. So you see Beverly, I have allowed a lie. I have lived a lie. My so-called reputation isn’t actually as exotic as people want to believe. I suppose I didn’t do anything to correct the rumours, the gossip because deep down I think I liked it. I had emerged from my shell and found some kind of fame. Pathetic I know, conceited yes, but in my defence I was 21 and my life lay endlessly before me and I wanted it all! Everything!”  
He shifted his head on the pillow and regarded his wife with a steady gaze and a tender smile. Very softly he said,   
“And I got it. I finally got it all, Beverly, when you gave yourself to me.”  
There was a moment or two of silence before Beverly sighed and kissed away his worry. Her voice just above a whisper she said, “You don’t think I knew?”  
He frowned, his eyes narrowing. “How? How did you know? Did Jack say something?”  
“No.” Beverly said gently. “Jean-Luc, I didn’t know you in your ‘wild’ days, but I think I knew pretty soon after I first met you that even though I did eventually hear all the scuttlebutt about you, I just knew that you weren’t that kind of man. Yes, I knew about the loss of your heart and your change of attitude towards your behaviour, Jack did tell me that, but people don’t change the essence of what they are, Jean-Luc, they can’t. Okay, you enjoyed a rich and varied sex life and you’ve already told me most of your partners were non-human, but even your first experience, though intense and very informative, was traditional, in the sense that it was simple, penetrative sex. Protracted, certainly, but not...extreme as you put it. So to find yourself disgusted at the thought of urinating inside your partner....that’s not being provincial, Jean-Luc, that’s merely showing your innate respect for your partner and, my sweet man, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.”  
He smiled and his eyes were suspiciously moist. “So am I still two people?”  
“Yes. And no.”  
“How?”  
“Well, looking from the outside, I know Captain Jean-Luc Picard. Celebrated star ship captain, accomplished diplomat and brilliant military strategist. Explorer, romantic...a polymath. Now the captain is completely accepting of all species he encounters, unless of course they turn out to be angry buggers, then he gives them short shrift. But my point is no matter how bizarre he might find a species, how disgusting they may appear in form or behaviour he never judges; never imposes his own personal beliefs or tastes upon them.”  
Jean-Luc opened his mouth to state the obvious but Beverly beat him to it.  
“Yes, I know that’s the Federation Charter and the cornerstone of Starfleet’s tenets and principles...we all learned it at the Academy. But think about it, Jean-Luc. How many ships’ captains do you know who’ve bent the rules? Added their own little touches to things? Carried out their own agenda?”  
Jean-Luc looked back at the ceiling and by his slight scowl she knew he was thinking of just those kinds of captains.  
“Times have changed, Jean-Luc. Starfleet’s changed, it’s had to, sadly, but...what was the alternative? We had to adapt to an ever changing and increasingly hostile environment. But even in the face of these fundamental changes you have stayed true. True to what you believe and true to yourself and that is what makes you so very extraordinary. And, I don’t like to admit it, but hated by some because you, by not prostituting yourself, have exposed their own inadequacies.  
“So, that’s Captain Jean-Luc Picard. Now let me tell you about Jean-Luc, the man, my husband, my lover. He has personal tastes. He has his own beliefs and he has a very clear sense of what he wants and what he needs and it just so happens, by sheer random chance that his tastes are traditional. And that’s an irony in itself considering what you’ve just told me. How far can one run from one’s self?”  
Taking a deep breath, Jean-Luc voice rumbled in the quiet room. “You alluded to my dismay and regret at disappointing my captain on the Stargazer as being the same as disappointing my father all over again. Are you now saying that I have been trying to run away from my past while at the same time living it? Perpetuating it in my personal life?”  
Screwing her face up, Beverly scratched her head. “Jean-Luc, the people we become as adults is laid down at a very young age. As one grows that foundation is added to by our experiences, but at the very base, the heart of ourselves is what’s formed very early on. Now that’s not to say that every person is an irrevocable product of their upbringing, we both know that’s not true, but generally speaking, one does tend to follow a certain path, at least as far as inherent behaviour goes.”  
“So...I possess traditional tastes because I was born to a traditional household?”  
“That is a very broad summation, but yes, it’s essentially true.”  
“But people can and do change!”  
“Yes, of course they do, but they have to want to! Apart from modifying your behaviour after you lost your heart, you remained essentially the same man. And so did your goals, your desires, your hopes, even your dreams. You had no need to change at that level, Jean-Luc. And I for one am glad!”  
Turning his head on the pillow, Jean-Luc gazed intently into Beverly’s eyes, seeking answers to questions that had lain dormant for a very long time.  
“I have long been aware of the difference between Captain Picard and me, but I’d always thought it was an act. When I was confronted by something I found repulsive or disgusting, I just retreated into my role and relied on my training and years of experience...and my belief in what I was doing and what I represented. But if what you’ve said is true, then the captain persona is a very real extension of me and it’s not an act, but a shield, carefully constructed to insulate me from that which I would normally not be able to cope with.”  
He chewed his lower lip and then asked tentatively, “So are they two, or different versions of one?”  
“One. And not versions, Jean-Luc. Just like any professional, you can shed your job facade the same as anyone else. The thing is, you’ve been labouring under the false impression that you’ve been living a lie when all you’ve done is let an image appear and grow that helped you overcome a lack of self-esteem and shyness. And...you did a bloody good job! Look at you now. I wasn’t gilding any lilies when I described Captain Jean-Luc Picard, my love. What you’ve overcome on a personal level to achieve what you have become...Jesus, Jean-Luc!”  
It took a while but the smile that emerged was warm and the light of amusement and gratitude made his dark eyes glitter.  
“So...no Jekyll and Hyde then?”  
“No, just Jean-Luc...to me, anyway.”  
A very comfortable silence descended until Jean-Luc asked quietly, “What about you, Beverly?”  
“Ah...about what?”  
“Anal sex.”  
The sudden blurt of laughter made Jean-Luc chuckle and shake his head. “Do I want to hear?”  
“Oh, God...The short answer is no, I’ve never done it and I have no desire to try. But...”  
Now intrigued, Jean-Luc turned onto his side and propped his head on his palm.  
“But?”  
“Okay...you remember my three secret boyfriends?”  
“Hmm.”  
“Well, there were occasions when I had sex with them separately and to my everlasting delight, each one did his best to surpass the others in a bid to win me for himself.”  
“Lucky you.” Chuckled Jean-Luc.  
“Well....yes and no. We were only seventeen, Jean-Luc...no technique or finesse, remember and my partners, me too in fact, were kinda limited in what we knew. It was more often a case of using our imaginations and that was more often than not a disaster!”  
“So?” He chuckled.  
Beverly rolled onto her back and used both hands to scratch her head. “I was with one of them, in a nice secluded place we knew of and everything was going along just fine...”  
“Any CD this time?”  
“You’re interrupting...but to answer your question, no.” She sighed and screwed her eyes shut. “I had to pay quite a price for the first lot; I wasn’t going to do it again.”  
“Really? How much did it cost?”  
Looking askance, Beverly said disbelievingly, “You know how expensive CD is! You told me you’ve used it more than once.”  
“Ah...while it’s true I have used it a few times, I never actually purchased it.”  
“Why?”  
Shrugging, Jean-Luc had the good grace to look embarrassed. “My partners always supplied it.”  
“Jesus, Jean-Luc! Did you ever live in the real world?”  
Offended, Jean-Luc scowled. “You know damned well that was uncalled for!”  
Rolling her eyes, Beverly pursed her lips.  
“Oh all right...sorry. Now, do you want to hear the rest or not?”  
“Yes I do, but not before you tell me how much you paid for that CD you used that first time.”  
When Beverly blushed, Jean-Luc knew he was on to something. All he had to do was wait.  
“I didn’t actually pay for it...not with latinum, anyway.”  
When Jean-Luc raised one eyebrow in silent enquiry, Beverly gritted her teeth and muttered,  
“Blowjob.”  
Jean-Luc’s eyes widened. “Really? You were how old?”  
“Seventeen. And before you ask, my boyfriends and I had done just about everything except actual intercourse and I had overcome my gag reflex by the time I was sixteen.”  
“But you don’t sound very happy about the...price.”  
“That’s because the person who supplied it was a dweeb.”  
That made Jean-Luc squint and tilt his head. “A dweeb?”  
“Let’s just say I didn’t find him at all attractive and it wasn’t a very pleasant experience.”  
She was about to continue when Jean-Luc said very quietly,   
“Did you swallow?”  
Making a moue with her lips, Beverly briefly considered hitting her husband with a heavy object and things weren’t helped when he said with obvious malicious glee,   
“Come on, Beverly, details, I want details.”  
Staring up at the ceiling and willing the colour from her face, Beverly made sure her voice was steady.  
“Yes.”  
“At seventeen...impressive. No wonder you’re so bloody good at it. I’m certainly delighted you had such an extensive...”  
“Shut up, Jean-Luc.”  
He stifled his chuckle and kissed her temple.  
“Very well, go on with your story.”  
She turned and speared a sullen look. “Are you sure? Nothing else you want to know?”  
“No...at least not at the moment. Please...continue.”  
“Right, as I was saying... we were having a lovely time when all-of-a-sudden he pulls out and proceeds to try and shove himself into my backside. Well, I wasn’t too pleased about that and I told him so, but he said he’d read somewhere that it was really good and that I’d love it. If anything can kill a mood it’s being told that having an erect penis pushed into your rectum is going to feel good.   
“I was so pissed off! He was kneeling between my legs, holding his erection and I thought...fuck you! But unfortunately instead of just getting to my feet, I rolled over first. Of course he took that as an open invitation. He pushed my shoulders down and the next thing I know I feel the head of his cock start to enter my ass. And it hurt! So I wriggled over onto my back, extricated one leg and placed my foot on his chest. Then I shoved with all my strength. He flew backwards and ended up on his backside, his erection gone and a very surprised look on his face.  
“I was on my feet very quickly and I went and stood over him, grabbing his jaw with my hand and lowering my face until we were only centimetres apart. Then I told him in no uncertain terms what I would do if he so much as ever looked at me again and to make my point I reached between his legs and gave his balls a good hard squeeze, enough to make him yell.”  
“Oh, Christ...I know he deserved it, but Jesus, Beverly, he’d be sore for a week or more.”  
“Too bad!”  
“So that’s it? No one else ever asked?”  
“Well, yeah...Jack brought it up one day, but it turned out he’d heard from someone...” She peered at Jean-Luc meaningfully, making him decidedly uncomfortable, “That it was...fun. He knew as soon as the words left his mouth that it wasn’t going to happen, not with me and you know he was so relieved! We laughed like drains!”  
Jean-Luc grinned and shook his head; that was until Beverly said softly, “It was you, wasn’t it.”  
He sighed and closed his eyes. “Yes.”  
That made Beverly frown. “But you’d never...”  
“No.”  
“Then why did you tell Jack...”  
He sighed, trying to cover his deep embarrassment and shame.  
“Because I was maintaining my image. Even though I wasn’t screwing anything that moved any more, I still had the reputation. So for a while I sort of...let things slip out, stuff I made up...only to Jack and usually after we’d been drinking...but I just couldn’t help it. In the back of my mind was the thought of him having sex with you. It was torture, Beverly although Jack never discussed, even when we were drunk, anything about his private life with you. But that didn’t stop my fucking stupid mind furnishing fantasy after fantasy about you and once you married Jack, I was plagued with thoughts of the two of you and it damned nearly drove me insane. In the end I knew I had to stop it, it was inevitable it would interfere with my relationship with Jack and that was something I cherished. So I bit the bullet and trained myself to confine my fantasies about you to just that. You...and sometimes me. Together.”  
Although she wasn’t very happy about what she’d just heard, she was compassionate enough to forgive him. “Poor Jean-Luc.”  
“No, Beverly. Not poor Jean-Luc. I was a bastard. A guilt-ridden bastard. I wanted my best friend’s wife. I lusted after my best friend’s wife and although I never did anything about it, I fucked you in my mind again and again and the thought of what that might to do Jack if he ever found out...my best friend, never entered my head.”  
Beverly closed her eyes and sighed.  
“You once told to me that a man cannot be held responsible for what his mind does when he’s asleep. Neither can he be held responsible for his feelings, Jean-Luc. You had no more control over them than any person. Stop flagellating yourself! Keep in mind you didn’t act on your feelings. Everyone has a right to their thoughts, Jean-Luc. And shouldn’t be held accountable if no harm has been done in having them.”  
Suddenly Beverly threw the covers back and sat up, trying and failing to tame her hair. While Jean-Luc looked on, she left the bed, then turned and looked down at him.  
“The past is long gone, Jean-Luc. We’ve covered a lot of ground this morning...good ground I think, but I have work to do.”  
Before he could say anything, she shook her finger and her head. “No, my love. No more. I’m rested and once I’ve had breakfast, I’m going to take a DNA sample from you, then I’m going back to sick bay. There are four beings who are suffering and I’m sorry, order or not, I’m going back to work.”  
She disappeared into the bathroom leaving a very bemused Jean-Luc in the bed.  
“A DNA sample?” He thought, frowning. “What the hell for?”  
The answer would have to wait. He was sitting at his desk, his robe untied and hanging on his lean frame when Beverly emerged from the bedroom, freshly showered and in uniform. She walked briskly to his desk and said, “Open wide.”  
A very confused captain said, “What? Why”  
It was then he noticed his wife had an odd looking object in her hand. It was small and slender and one end seemed to be a little thicker and had a small serrated edge. Peering suspiciously, he lifted a hand and pointed at it.   
“What’s that?”  
Holding it up, Beverly smiled. “You’re a history buff, Jean-Luc. Tell me what you know about old-fashioned DNA swabs?”  
Scratching just above his right ear, Jean-Luc’s cheeks puffed and he let out a long breath.  
“Ah...cells taken from mucous membranes?”  
Smiling broadly, Beverly winked. “Well done. Now, open wide.”  
Frowning, Jean-Luc shook his head. “Beverly, you can take my DNA from anywhere. I need only touch something.”  
Her patience was beginning to wear thin. “You do realise who you’re talking to?”  
“Of course, but why are you wanting to take a DNA sample in such an archaic way. And, for that matter, why do you want DNA from me?”  
“You’re just going to have to trust me, Jean-Luc, I have my reasons.”  
With his eyes locked on his wife, he reluctantly opened his mouth. The procedure was over in seconds.  
“There, now that didn’t hurt, did it?”  
She moved towards the door, her attention focused on placing the object in a device. Just as she neared the door sensor, Jean-Luc asked quietly, “Did you have any intention of obeying my order?”  
She stopped and sighed, but didn’t look at her husband.  
“Jean-Luc you know I can countermand any order you give me if I have a valid medical reason to do so.” She turned and looked at him, her expression both defiant and sympathetic. “Your concern was that I was exhausted and needed to eat. Those concerns have been met. I am rested and I have eaten. Now I must return to my work.”  
She took two steps and the doors softly hissed open. On the threshold she paused, looked back and said gently, “It’s not a deliberate act meant to defy you, Jean-Luc. This is about more than the suffering of my patients. I can’t tell you more than that. I’m sorry.”  
She moved into the corridor, but Jean-Luc’s soft summons brought her back.  
“Are you aware that the aliens manipulated your staff? That as soon as you requested the computer to display the information and images on the main viewer in sick bay, your staff were issued orders, via screens and in your name, to vacate the facility and all the doors were locked, effectively imprisoning you?”  
Her expression one of shock and anger, Beverly shook her head. “No, I wasn’t.”  
“Then you wouldn’t be aware that we had no way to communicate with you either.”  
Now her mouth was slightly open. “No.”  
“Well, Beverly, perhaps you might devote as much energy and dedication in making sure you’re not being manipulated as well.”  
Inclining her head, Beverly left. Jean-Luc sat back and ran a hand over his scalp.   
“Damn.”

 

Although Jean-Luc arrived on the bridge late, Will knew not to say anything about it. His captain seemed preoccupied and soon retreated into his ready room. The first officer wasn’t surprised when he was summoned.  
“Yes, Captain?”  
Jean-Luc was seated at his desk, leaning back, his legs crossed elegantly and seemingly focused on the crystal shard he was slowly turning in his hands. The silence stretched, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, Will was aware his captain was gathering his thoughts. Eventually the older man looked up, uncrossed his legs, sat up and let out a long breath.  
“I think there’s more going on here than we’ve been led to believe, Will.”  
Will grimaced. “Well, Captain, you’d have to admit we don’t know much anyway. Forgive me, sir, but I can’t see how you might think we’re being led astray when we don’t know the first damned thing about these people or their motives.”  
With a one-sided smile, Jean-Luc tossed the crystal shard onto his desktop.  
“That’s quite true, number one, but take a look at what we do know. Command received an invitation and within it, a very specific request. Command accepts the invitation and the request and sends us. As soon as we get close, we get sent new coordinates. So we do a little nosing around only to find the probe we sent seems to have been...tampered with so that the information we receive has been either doctored or deliberately limited.  
“Using our initiative, we proceed and what do you know? We pick up two alien escorts.”  
He snapped his fingers while saying, “Popped out of nowhere just like that.”  
He sighed and pulled his lips to one side. “We’re contacted text only and in standard and a request is made to ‘interface’ with Beverly. Now that gets us thinking, especially as we soon find they want a doctor who is au fait with humans. So what does that imply?  
“Subsequent communications, now visual, but no audio, still text only, take place once we’re in a very high orbit. Now in a better position to run our scans, we find we can’t scan the planet, just as we were unable to scan their ships, which, I remind you, disappeared in the same fashion they’d appeared in the first place. But...we do know that there’s some kind of anomaly sitting in space not far away from the planet, but can our scanners make anything of it? Can they identify it? No.  
“Next we find that Beverly has to give her assurance that what she’s doing must remain confidential and although she would do so as a matter of course, the aliens know enough about her profession to remind her of her Hippocratic Oath!  
“Then, once Beverly gave her word, she was virtually held captive, without her knowledge in sick bay. Now once we became aware of this situation, I contacted the planet and, as before, the being I communicated with assured me what they’d done was necessary and that Beverly was at no time in any danger, nor were the crew or the ship. I was also assured no humans were being held captive or being coerced to stay on the planet, but the being wouldn’t answer my questions about why they wanted a doctor familiar with humans.  
“So Beverly’s eventually released, and I’m fairly sure I know why, but that’s irrelevant because before she left our quarters this morning, she took a DNA sample from me.”  
Will, now seated in front of Jean-Luc’s desk raised his eyebrows in surprise, but said nothing.  
“But that’s not all, Will. She didn’t just get me to place my thumb on a DNA selector, she utilised a method that hasn’t been used for at least three hundred years...or more! So I’m left with two very curious questions. Why take my DNA in such an obsolete way and why my DNA?”  
Will shrugged and idly scratched his beard. “You’re right; it doesn’t make much sense, captain. To state the obvious...you did ask her?”  
“Yes, but she wouldn’t tell me. She did allude to something, to be honest I don’t think she knows what’s going on, but she did tell me she has four patients and they’re all suffering...quite badly it seems.”  
Will sat back and crossed his legs, holding his ankle where it rested on his thigh.  
“This is hard to get a handle on, sir. When you take in all you’ve just said, the underlying feeling I get is that we’re being used...manipulated, but on the other hand, the aliens haven’t done anything overtly hostile. They’re secretive for sure, but they did let us know that we can think of them as friends...of a sort. Other than that, they seem to be trying to put us at ease.”  
Nodding slowly, Jean-Luc pursed his lips. “Yes, that’s true, and I have no wish to assign hostility or connivance to these people, but until I can find out, one way or another just what the hell is going on, I can’t allow us to let our guard down. I want to, Will, I don’t want to assume these beings have any malevolent intent, but if the Federation’s recent history has taught us anything, it’s not to take things at face value. We simply can’t afford to.”  
The big exec sighed, his expression troubled. “Then what do we do, Captain? For that matter what can we do?”  
“I don’t know!” barked a frustrated captain. He then calmed himself and offered a rueful smile. “Our hands are tied, Will. The thing is and this is what really bothers me, is that in all probability Beverly will do her job, sort out whatever the aliens’ problem is, then we’ll be asked to leave none the wiser and we know they’d rather we never came back. The only person who might know anything about this situation is Beverly and if I know her she won’t divulge what she knows, not if it’s to protect a patient’s confidentiality and that’s going to put her head-on at odds with command, because they’re going to want to know what she knows, especially when they find out...and they will...that a human or humans are involved.”  
“But surely she’d tell you if there was any danger to us or the Federation?” Asked Will carefully.  
“Yes, of course she would, but if that’s the case, what then? If they discover that Beverly has uncovered some kind of plot, what are they going to do? Prevent us from leaving? Or would Beverly herself be under direct threat?”  
“They can’t keep us here, Captain, command knows we’re here. If we don’t return, they’re going to want to know where we are and if they don’t get any answers, they’ll send in the cavalry.”  
Jean-Luc face hardened and his eyebrow rose. “Will they? Don’t forget just how thin Starfleet’s stretched, Will. I doubt they have the ships to spare let alone enter into non-Federation space to confront an unknown species whose technology is most certainly above and beyond anything we possess. Command, indeed the Federation itself can’t afford another war, Will, especially not over the loss of one starship.”   
Grunting softly, Will raked his fingers through his dark hair. Jean-Luc watched his first officer, noticing the grey that had begun to appear at his temples and in his beard. The captain frowned, thinking, “When did that happen, Will?” A closer study of the younger man showed the lines around his eyes and the furrows on his once smooth brow. “Is it your grief, my friend?” Jean-Luc thought sadly. “You have been my trusted right hand for a long time, Will, you and Deanna. I owe you so much, but look what’s happened? Where is that brash young man who came aboard so many years ago?” His thoughts were broken by a soft snort, making Will tilt his head, curious.  
“Sir?”  
Offering a small smile, Jean-Luc shook his head. “Just reminiscing, Will. I was just reminded how old I am.”  
Not too sure of his captain’s mood, Will summoned a wary smile. “I’ve always thought of age as relative, Captain.” Before he thought of the effect his next words would have on the listener, Will ploughed on. “I look at Charlotte and I see Deanna. It’s taken a while, but I’m slowly seeing the future, the life that spreads out before her and not the tragedy of the past, and I know I have a part in that future, no matter how old I become. And when I’m long gone, she’ll go on, maybe have children of her own.”  
To his credit, none of the intense pain and sorrow that speared Jean-Luc’s heart and gut showed in his expression, but it was unmistakable in his eyes and Will saw it. He closed his eyes and bowed his head, saying softly, “Oh, hell, I’m so sorry, Captain.”  
Taking a deep breath, Jean-Luc softened his face. His voice was very deep and gentle. “Don’t be, Will. It’s no one’s fault...it just wasn’t meant to be. We’re just happy you have Charlotte. As long as that beautiful little girl lives Deanna will always with us.”  
Such selflessness nearly unmanned Will. He had to take a few steadying breaths to stifle the threatening tears. Once he felt he could speak, he cleared his throat and said,  
“Well, Captain, that brings us back to Beverly.”  
Offering a small smile of gratitude for Will’s effort to bring the discussion back on track, Jean-Luc cast aside his musings and regrouped. “Indeed. Trouble is, how do we find out if she is under threat? We’re totally dependent on the aliens for communication and we know they’re not saying anything so that puts everything on Beverly’s shoulders. If she finds anything, she’s got to make sure the aliens don’t find out she knows. Then she has to tell us and we have to work out a way to leave without making it obvious we know the jig is up.”  
“That’s a lot of ifs, Captain.”  
“Conjecture, Will. It’s all we have at the moment. I would very much like to simply ask Beverly what’s going on, provided she knows of course but that would only put added pressure on her and perhaps even compromise her, which I do not want to do. No, as much as I don’t like it, we’re just going to have to trust her judgement, which of course I have no problem with, I just hope she doesn’t fall head-long into any sort of trap, especially one we can’t get her or us out of.”  
Will’s grunt almost made Jean-Luc smile. “Damned if we do and damned if we don’t. I hate that!”  
“Me too, number one, me too.”  
“So,” Asked Will. “What are your orders, sir?”  
Pursing his lips, Jean-Luc’s eyes darkened and Will knew instantly his captain had decided to take a proactive step. He also knew it would be something unprovocative. Not only did Jean-Luc have the welfare of his ship and crew to keep in mind, but also his beloved wife.  
“I want you to launch a shuttle, Will. Go and see what that anomaly is. Have a look, a very close look.”  
Will pulled down the corners of his mouth and nodded thoughtfully. “And if our alien friends object?”  
Lifting his hands up, Jean-Luc shrugged. “If they do, I’m hoping it’ll only provoke something mild, but if they express any objection, come straight back. If they make their displeasure known to me, I’ll order you home.”  
Will stood and grinned down at his CO. “It’s good to have something to do, sir.”  
“Just don’t gloat about being able to leave the ship, number one. I happen to know the deuterium tanks need a good clean...with a toothbrush.”  
Jean-Luc could still hear Will’s chuckle long after the big man had left the ready room. Softly Jean-Luc said,  
“Good luck, Will...and take care. The stakes are so much higher now that you’re a father.”  
Taking a few moments to settle himself, Jean-Luc once again applied his mind to his work, ignoring the incessant ache in his soul.

 

The conscience read the text as it scrolled across the reader that was part of his clothing. He and his peoples’ representative, one of only a select few of his people he’d ever seen, were in a quiet, airy room, furnished in the fashion of his people, spacious and a little sparse, but comfortable. His dwelling was much warmer that his peoples’ frigid world and the very subtle sound of the cooling unit within the taller being’s clothing was something he found comforting. So little had made him feel calm or at peace since his children had fallen ill.  
First had been his eldest son, then within days his younger brother, then again shortly thereafter his third son and then his daughter fell to the insidious illness. The children were only separated in age from eldest to youngest by eight months and all of them were thirteen human years old, which was roughly analogous to the development of the native beings, who had a similar life-span to humans.  
As the alien being’s fingers made their minuscule movements, the invisible hyper laser integrated into the conscience’s clothing interpreted the language.  
“The human healer is working diligently.”  
He read then spoke softly in standard, his rich, deep voice oddly unaccented.  
“And what progress has she made?”   
The being, one of only a few who understood his language said,  
“We do not yet know.”  
“My children suffer. My one cannot be with them.”  
“I know, it is regrettable, but we are doing all we can.”  
That made the conscience frown and a rarely felt emotion surfaced. Anger.  
“We are supposed to be far more technologically advanced than these...Federation beings. Why can’t our healers end this! Cure my children as you cured me!”  
The being offered a small tilt of his shimmering, radiant head, his contrition and sympathy making him glow so brightly the watching conscience has to squint.   
“Your people are so sorry. It is the mixture. You are not of this world...”  
The conscience snapped, “I know! I was chosen, I am the conscience...I know that and I have never questioned my difference, you know that, but when my one and I wished to reproduce we were assured that it would cause no problems. We were told it had been done many times before...that a human,” He said the word as if it was unfamiliar when said to describe himself. “And one of my people could, with help of the healers, successfully reproduce. We were even asked how many children we wished. If you knew there were any underlying risks, why did you not prevent them from occurring? Why are my children suffering?!”  
The being glowed so brightly the conscience had no choice but to close his eyes and place his hand over them. When he sensed the light dimming, he lowered his hand and opened his eyes. He had been eighteen years old when the filters he had worn over his eyes since his birth had been removed. He sighed and lowered his head, reigning in his anger.  
“Forgive me I do not blame you, or the healers.” He stepped back and walked slowly to the clear ports and gazed out across the frozen land. “It is the worry, the desperate need to help my children.” He turned to face the being. “Their pain is my pain.”  
“How much do you remember of your...experience...with the illness?”  
His eyes shifted from the reader on his sleeve. Sighing, his handsome face showed his anguish.  
“I remember it all. Not only the terrible, overwhelming pain, but the fear and dread. Until the healers cured me, I thought I was destined to float in the great floe, my body prepared in the traditional way having never served my people in the role for which I’d been chosen.”  
He snorted softly. “I don’t know which was worse. The illness and what it was doing to me, or the terrible realisation that my death would mean I had failed my people.”  
The glowing light dimmed again and gently strobed. “Such difficult thoughts for one so young.”  
When the conscience didn’t respond, the being said softly, “Proof we chose well.”  
Brushing off the compliment, the conscience looked into the glowing area of the head where he knew the being’s face was. He had never seen any of the facial features of his people, nor had his people, bar the select few, ever seen even so much as an image of him.   
“Contact the Federation healer. Ask her if she has found a cure yet.”  
Glowing a little brighter, the being tilted his head. “Forgive me, but she would have already contacted us if she had anything new to tell us, and I must caution against being too...insistent.”  
Although holding an extremely exalted position among his people, he was not the supreme ruler; he did not reign, he held no absolute power over his people. He was their conscience no more no less. And advice was something he always listened to, just as his people listened to his. It was his judgements as the conscience of his peoples’ questions on law and community that was absolute. That was, after all, his raison d’etre.  
“She would not respond well?”  
“We know that humans do not appreciate being put under what they refer to as ‘pressure’ but there is more.”  
When the text stopped, the conscience looked up, his expression expectant. The being glowed a little brighter.  
“She is mated to the vessel’s commander. He is protective of her and has the authority to not only halt her work, but to leave our system and return to the Federation.”  
Alarm skittered across the conscience’s face, his long, single, grey braid of hair swinging from side to side as he shook his otherwise bald head.  
“No! That must not happen! You must not allow them to leave!”  
Again he had to squint as the being glowed brighter. “We cannot do that, you know that. If they choose to leave, we must let them go. All we can do is encourage them to stay and leave the healer to do her work without any interference from us.”  
“Who is interfacing with them?”  
“One of our healers.”  
“Only one? They have only ever seen one of our people?”  
“Yes.”  
“And our healer was...covered? They did not see the glow?”  
“No. The only glow they have seen is what showed around the ships sent to bring them to us.”   
“They must not see my people’s glow. If they investigate they will discover my peoples’ essence. That must not happen.” He said distractedly.  
“We know.”  
Frustrated and feeling the anger rising again, the conscience fisted his hands by his sides and lowered his head, saying softly,  
“I wish to be alone.”  
The being left immediately and the conscience took a few moments to calm himself. He then went back to the clear port and stared out, his chest heaving in a deep sigh. As a young man he had once walked over long distances outside, the need to explore his surroundings too insistent to ignore. It had dismayed his family and they had tried to dissuade him, but he refused. One outing took him far from his home, way out into the frozen wastes until he came to the shore of the ice-capped sea. He knew the floe was out there somewhere before him and a shiver which had nothing to do with the sub-zero temperatures raced through him, making a mockery of the heavily insulated clothing he wore.   
His education had been comprehensive. Not only was he taught the history and laws of his people and his purpose in being chosen to serve his people, but also two languages, both spoken and written. He knew from a very early age he was obviously not like his family and that they couldn’t communicate with him until he learned how to use his ability to make sounds into a language. One was standard and the other French. It was explained to him that the conscience had been sourced from many different worlds over millennia and to honour the world from which he came, he was taught whatever was the dominant language and, if there was a regional language from where he came, he was taught that too.  
He had learned how, over many centuries his people had come to realise that some species were more suited to be the conscience than others and it was when he was told that humans were especially suitable that he came to know that he was human. But he never wanted to know anything about humans; indeed, there was no reason why he should. He was loved by his family. He had siblings, parents and even a pet, the only thing he didn’t have was a name, other than ‘the conscience’. Apart from that he was referred to as ‘you’. No one told him he came from a planet called Earth and he was not interested in finding out where he originated from anyway. Once he’d mastered the languages his education began in earnest and he was simply too busy for extraneous thought.  
It was only as a young adult that the restlessness that plagued him for so many years afterwards drove him out to wander. Towards his twenty-eighth year he met his one. She had been chosen by the people for him. He had never seen the faces of any of his people, not even his family, his teachers, no one and even when he found himself attracted to the female he couldn’t know her name as it simply couldn’t be interpreted and his hands were unable to make the movements to communicate with her, but by touch and gesture, fondness turned to love and in his fifty-eighth year they mated with the intent of reproducing.  
He tilted his head, his long thick braid falling to one side. “My beloved, come to me please.”  
He knew she had entered the room as the glow of her body where it wasn’t covered by her clothing increased the light. She came to stand beside him and their hands touched. He had been taught from a very early age to be particularly gentle with his people’s hands as their multi articulated, long, slender fingers were very delicate.  
So rather than hold her hand, they simply let the backs of their hands touch.  
“I am now beginning to understand how anguished my parents must have felt when I fell ill with this damned condition so long ago.”  
His eyes automatically went to his reader.   
“There is no news? The healer has not completed her task?”  
“No. I suggested we make enquiries, but I was advised against it. Apparently humans do not like to be ‘pressured’”  
“An odd trait given their lack of sophistication.”  
“True, but we cannot judge them too harshly, my one. They do possess information we do not.”  
They stared out into the growing dark of descending night until the female said,  
“Tell me about them.”  
The conscience knew she was referring to their children. Because they could only partially communicate with their hands, they preferred to use their inherited ability to speak and that was something their mother couldn’t do and the sound of their own voices was agonising to them, so she had not seen them since the onset of their illness.  
“They suffer.” His softly spoken words were filled with great sorrow and anguish.  
“There is nothing we can do?” Even though the words appeared as text, the conscience felt his one’s desperation.  
“No. All that is left to us is to wait and hope the Federation ship stays and that their healer helps us.”  
“It is certain she can?”  
“All we know is that the illness that struck me when I was very young has occurred on the world of my origin. When our people encountered the Federation ships we accessed their computer cores and found a very oblique reference to it. As it seems to be the same or very similar illness suggests the healer should know of it and hopefully know how to cure it.”  
“And what of the mixture?”  
The conscience sighed and scratched just above his ear. “That may be a problem. I do not know, that is up to our healers to discuss with her.”  
Again silence held sway. Their hands, when the female wasn’t using hers, rested by their sides so she could touch his.  
“Are you curious?”  
He turned his gaze away from the port and squinted at his glowing mate.  
“Curious?”  
“There are humans on the Federation ship. Their healer is human.”  
He smiled, his dark hazel eyes twinkling. “Who have you been talking to?”  
Odd symbols scrolled across the reader and the conscience understood his one was laughing.  
“I have my sources, my one. But my question remains unanswered.”  
He sighed and closed his eyes. “I’m not sure. I suppose deep inside some part of me is curious, but the greater part of me does not want to know, does not want to see. I am of my people, I was chosen to serve and I was born here. My family are here. To see them...” His head tilted up and he gazed into the now dark sky. “They’re up there and they frighten me.”  
Very gently the female lifted her arms and laid her extraordinary hands on the conscience’s shoulders.  
“Come...mate with me.”  
He smiled, squinting his eyes as she glowed brighter. “Yes...yes, I will mate with you, my beloved one.”  
They left the room and although the conscience knew he would find a temporary peace in mating with his beloved, his heart still ached.

 

Later, his eyes still covered by the almost black shield, the two naked beings held other tenderly. Languidly they caressed each other, her body, which had glowed so intently as she climaxed, was slowly reducing in brightness. Her fingertips delicately feathered over his cheeks and by the soft beep from his discarded clothing, which was always kept close by, he knew she was talking to him.  
Not needing to see, he reached behind him and caught his fingers in his top, dragging it over his body. Pressing a small button on the side of his eye shield, the material lightened to enable him to see the text on his reader.  
“I am glad you remove the hair that grows on your face.”  
His braid, which had grown uncut since his birth and now only grew from a ring of hair around the back of his head since all the rest of his head hair had fallen out as a young man, now looped untidily down his back and over his hip. He chuckled softly and made a point of looking down the length of his hirsute body to his still erect penis. His one laughed and her fingers left his face to touch his penis, making him sigh.  
“It seems much grows.”  
Her soft caresses encouraged him to darken his eye shield and place his cheek against hers.  
“Again, my beloved one?”  
“Yes, my dear hairy one.”  
He could not see where to place his penis, he’d always allowed her to guide him. Although he’d never kissed, he did nuzzle using his lips and face to stimulate both of them. They had first mated only a year after they’d met and he had found it a profound experience. As he’d grown into adolescence he’d experimented with his body, quickly discovering masturbation and his teachers had explained what was happening and the purpose behind ejaculation and the accompanying pleasure, but it wasn’t until he mated with his one that he experienced true intimacy and with it, deep intellectual, philosophical and physical pleasure.  
The decision to reproduce was something they discussed for years. They both wanted children very much and they knew, with help from the council of healers it was possible, but knowing their children would be forever apart, deemed unable to take their place in their mother’s society was very difficult. And they had to consider how the children might feel about being a mixture. Although a certain amount of genetic manipulation was required for successful reproduction, the healers were reluctant to interfere too much, feeling it would be deceitful to create beings that looked like the indigenous population but clearly were not. However eventually the desire to reproduce became too much and they sought the help of the council of healers.  
Because of the technique involved and the strain it would put on the mother, it was decided to produce no more than four offspring. The gender was irrelevant, but the gestational period would be spread so that all four would be born at intervals of one every two months, over a period of eight months.  
The conscience had been taught about the reproductive processes of his people and he understood how his own body contributed, but he had no idea how humans reproduced, nor did he particularly care. When he’d begun to masturbate, his teachers simply told him that as a male human, that’s what human males did as part of the human reproductive process. He never asked any questions or for any clarifications. He was far more interested in his people and his lessons.  
Even at the tender age of four he knew what he was to his people, that he had been chosen.   
His one had found the gestation difficult but with the assistance of the healers she had successfully produced the four children and it was with great joy that they celebrated each birth. Even though she glowed too brightly for him to see the births, he was there and he was delighted to find that although his children glowed, they possessed the ability to control it, thus enabling him to interact with them all the time. And at birth each child loudly demonstrated their inherited ability to make sounds!   
The conscience had, on request, been given the histories of the consciences that had preceded him. It was a rich and varied history of males, (always males) who had served his people. Long ago, over thousands of years, his people had decided that the only way to avoid conflict amongst themselves was to have an ‘outside’ arbiter. Someone completely removed from the inherent ingrained biases and who could act as their collective conscience in all things, all aspects of their community and society.  
At first, adult males were simply taken from planets that had sentient beings, but that soon proved to be disastrous. Far too many refused to accept their role; indeed most did all they could to escape which most often lead to an inadvertent death out in the frozen wastes. The aliens knew that could not continue.  
So it slowly became evident that young males must be sourced. But still, it didn’t work. That was until, over a long period of searching, the people came upon the sector of space populated with species that showed promise as suitable candidates. Some, like the Vulcans, if taken young enough, proved excellent and there was the bonus of longevity, although ultimately it was that very trait that proved their unsuitability as the conscience tended to outlive his progeny and his one. And they did tend to be possessed with strong emotions despite the efforts of the teachers to assist in trying to help control them.  
Eventually, by Earth’s early twentieth century, it became common for the conscience to be sourced from that planet. Indeed by the mid twentieth century, the aliens were visiting regularly in an effort to find a way to successfully breed and produce an infant they could rear as their own, but no matter what they tried, whether it was a simple abduction of an child or infant, or experimental interbreeding, it always left the human mother bereft and traumatised and the aliens found that intolerable. Another way had to be found and it was.  
In the early twenty-first century, the alien scientists made a break through. With vastly improved technology they could identify a pregnant human female, one carrying more that a single child and take one whilst it was still an embryo or earlier, even when it was nothing than a zygote. And, most importantly they could do this, and indeed did so deliberately, before the human female knew she was pregnant, so she never knew she’d lost one of her children.  
So, every eighty years or so, a trip was made to earth to procure a new conscience. If on the rare occasion a conscience died prematurely, an embryo was sought and gestated, born and taught and in the meantime the people waited, using a sophisticated artificial intelligence to guide them until their conscience was of age. At the age of eighteen, the conscience took his place and began his service to his people.  
The deceased conscience was always given the traditional disposal of his remains just as was done for his people, his body prepared and set adrift in the great floe. It was an honour and something all the people looked forward to with comfort. They looked upon all the dead in the great floe as a society of the essences and it was from there that they gained their power. And that was something they would guard with their lives and protect from outsiders. Even those who were invited and came in peace to help.

 

Beverly’s elbows on her desktop had begun to get sore as she supported her head on her fingertips. No matter how many times she’d run her tests, the same damned result came back and each time her frustration grew.  
In a sudden burst of movement, Beverly shoved her chair back, scooped up a stylus and threw it at the monitor screen.  
“It makes no sense!” She yelled. Then, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath she said quietly,   
“Computer, display the chromosomal heterozygous state of the human male in the information download.”  
Tilting her head, she bared her teeth. “I don’t get it! This shouldn’t be happening. The alleles have to be in both genetic contributors, but they’re not...and it shouldn’t be evident in the Y chromosome! We know it should be recessive and in the X chromosome.”  
Letting out a very exasperated breath, Beverly snapped, “Computer, display Picard heterozygous state and compare.”  
The information that appeared made Beverly gape. Shaking her head, she frowned in confusion.  
“But that can’t be right! There has to be some deviation...even given it’s the same condition, it can’t be identical! What the hell is going on here?”  
Her sudden thought made her stomach lurch. “Oh, my God...could it be? Have they somehow cloned Jean-Luc?”  
With that thought rattling around her head, Beverly immediately instructed the computer to bring up the DNA sample from the mysterious human. She ran every test she could, but none proved that what she was seeing was a cloned DNA strand. Everything she did showed it was unadulterated human male DNA. It was with eventual desperation that Beverly finally asked the computer what she’d been avoiding.  
“Overlay both the human DNA sample in the download with that of the most recent sample from Captain Picard.”  
What she saw shocked her so badly she felt sick. It took almost ten minutes before she felt she could summon a steady voice.  
“Can you hear me?”  
No reply was forthcoming, so Beverly called the bridge.  
“Crusher to Picard.”  
“Picard here.”  
“Captain, I need to talk with the aliens.”  
She clearly heard the wariness in his voice as he said, “Very well, doctor, once we’ve made contact, I’ll direct the call down to your office.”  
“Thank you, Captain. Crusher out.”  
Fortunately the wait was a small one. The being that appeared on the screen was, as usual, completely covered and text scrolled as soon as the screen displayed the image.  
“How may help you, Doctor Crusher?”  
Keeping her face neutral, Beverly tried to calm her racing heart. “I need more genetic samples from the human male.”  
“For what purpose?”  
“I require more samples to continue my work. I have identified the condition and it is an inherited one, but the hybridism of those beings suffering at present complicates matters a great deal. If I can have more genetic samples from the contributor of the condition, I may be able to find a way to not only cure the afflicted, but make it so that they themselves don’t pass it on to any offspring they may one day have.”  
The alien being seemed to be considering the request. Text scrolled across the bottom of the screen as the being’s hands rose into view.  
“In what form do you wish these...samples?”  
Out of sight, her hands under the table, Beverly crossed her fingers, wondering just how far she could go.  
“Blood, hair, with a viable root bulb and semen.”  
All three were completely unnecessary, in fact she didn’t actually need any more DNA, not for working on the Shalaft’s Syndrome, but if what she suspected was true, she wanted all the ammunition she could get. Before she brought her findings to her husband she had to be absolutely sure.  
There was an ominous hiatus before text scrolled.  
“You may have blood and hair.”  
“Well,” Thought Beverly. “Two out of three’s not bad.”  
“Thank you. When will I get them?”  
“A few minutes.”  
“And how will you send them to me?”  
“Stay where you are. The samples will arrive at your location shortly.”  
The image on the screen winked out of existence and Beverly snarled, saying brusquely, “Computer, source an older Picard DNA sample and...”  
“Please state date or file number.”  
Closing her eyes and clenching her jaw, Beverly said angrily, “It doesn’t matter! Just choose one at random. As long as it’s Captain Picard’s, I want to see it!”   
The image duly appeared and Beverly glared at it. “Right. Computer, overlay this DNA sample with the downloaded human sample and compare.”  
She didn’t need to hear the computer say, “There is no discernible difference.”  
Beverly could see that herself.  
She sat back and ran her fingers through her hair just as the requested samples shimmered silently into existence on her desk. She sat motionless, staring unseeing at the items, each contained in their own vacuum sealed isolation holders.  
“Okay, if he is a clone, I can’t detect it...so how the hell did they do it without the inevitable degradation of the nucleotides?”  
Of course she knew the aliens possessed medical technology far beyond what was available to her but still, some things were basic. Cloning as she knew it left indisputable and detectable traces. Her eyes closed again as the only other alternative made her heart clench.  
“Is he your twin, Jean-Luc? Did you have an identical twin brother?”  
Deciding she had to investigate, Beverly’s eyes were clouded as she said quietly, “Computer, instigate medical request, authorisation, Crusher, Phi two nine.”  
“Authorisation acknowledged.”  
“I want the complete medical records of a deceased human female, name, Yvette Picard, nee Gessard, year of death approximately 2362 in LaBarre, France. Send intel package via subspace burst, priority one.”  
“Unable to comply. Priority one status can only be requested by rank of captain or above.”  
“Fuck!” Taking a deep breath, Beverly said with as much restraint as she could, “Computer, hold request.”  
Ignoring the chime of compliance, Beverly stood and cast one more look at the seemingly innocuous samples sitting on her desk. She was out the door and on her way to the bridge before she succumbed to the inevitable and began to test them.  
Jean-Luc was sitting at his desk, trying to concentrate on his work. Will had reported in, so far his journey to investigate the anomaly had been uneventful, but he hoped to have something to report soon, apart from that he had little to do but mull over Beverly’s request to contact the aliens, so his door chime was welcome.  
To his customary, “Come.” Beverly entered and he could see she was both distracted and annoyed, but there was also a definite aura of desperate worry. He rose from his desk and silently gestured for Beverly to join him on the sofa.   
Once seated, she seemed to need to gather her thoughts. He waited patiently.  
“Jean-Luc,” Beverly began. “I need you to authorise a medical intel package, sent from Earth to me via subspace burst...coded priority one.”  
He knew better than to ask why, obviously Beverly needed it, but although he was willing, he had protocols he had to adhere to and one of those was to log the reason for the request. To that end he said gently,  
“Beverly, I do want to help, but I have to have your reason...a priority one request is usually used exclusively for transmission of sensitive strategic information. I’m not sure, even given the medical purview that I can legitimately make such a request.”  
Staring intently into her husband’s eyes, Beverly said earnestly, “You trust me?”  
His gaze was as intense as hers. “Implicitly.”  
“Then you’ll just have to rely on that trust, Jean-Luc. I can’t tell you why I need the information, only that it’s vitally important that I get it as soon as possible.”  
Lowering his head in thought, Jean-Luc slowly rubbed his fingers over his lower lip. When he spoke it was as if he was talking to himself.   
“Well, I suppose I can try to convince command it pertains to the current mission, which they themselves have given a very high priority.” He looked up and smiled. “Very well, Beverly, I’ll inform the computer. I take it the request has been queued?”  
A very relieved and grateful Beverly smiled. “Uh huh.” But then her face fell. “What about Command, Jean-Luc?”  
He smiled and offered a shrug. “That’s my problem, Beverly. You concentrate on yours.”  
As she summoned a smile, she thought, “Oh, God, Jean-Luc, I have a terrible feeling my problem is your problem!”  
She barely heard him authorise the request. Too distracted to stay any longer, she was out the door before Jean-Luc had made it to his feet. He stood, staring at the now closed doors.  
“What the hell is going on?”  
With no answer forthcoming, he retreated to his desk.

 

Will was looking at his flight console, trying to make some sense of the very vague readings his shuttle’s scanners were supplying. The vessel’s sudden halt with accompanying proximity alert sirens made his head snap up and him to shout, “Whoa! What the fuck? Where the hell did you come from?”  
Sitting in space, no more than half a kilometre in front of him was a very large glowing ship. For a few moments nothing happened, then his console screen blinked twice and text began to stream across its surface.  
“You will return to your ship, Commander Riker.”  
Recovering quickly, Will sat back and ran his fingers through his beard. “How do you know my rank and name?”  
“Return to your ship, Commander.”  
“I don’t see why I should. I’m not doing anything...just having a look around, no harm in that is there?”  
“Return to your ship, Commander.”  
Growing irritated at the implacable obstinacy, Will folded his arms, conveniently ignoring his captain’s order to return if any objections were noted. He justified this by telling himself the aliens hadn’t actually objected.  
“And what if I don’t? What will you do?”  
The ship grew brighter and Will had to put up the blast shield to protect his eyes. He was forced to squint to read the text.  
“Commander it is in your best interests to return to your ship. You have no business intruding into any areas of our space.”  
“You still haven’t told me what you’ll do if I refuse.”  
“Return to your ship, Commander.”  
Stymied, Will had no option but to come about and return to the Enterprise. He had travelled fifty kilometres when the computer registered the disappearance of the alien vessel. It had vanished as effortlessly as it had appeared.  
A very annoyed first officer grumbled, “Computer, did you record everything that has occurred in the last 30 minutes?”  
“Yes.”  
“Why didn’t the scanners or sensors detect the alien ship?”  
“Unknown.”  
“Begin analysis of time index 14.25 through to 14.45. I want to know exactly what was happening in the area of space where that ship appeared.”  
“Analysis has begun.”  
“Send the results to the Enterprise.”  
“Acknowledged.”

 

Jean-Luc knew Will was on his way back and had issued an order for him to report directly to the ready room upon his return.  
The big man strode in forty five minutes later, his face tight, his body tense. Having already seen the analysis, Jean-Luc knew they had no more information than before, which was virtually nothing. There was, however, Will’s rather loose interpretation of his orders. By Jean-Luc’s clipped, hard tone, Will knew his captain was not pleased.  
“Report.”  
Resisting the urge to shrug, Will kept a respectful stance and made sure his tone showed none of his frustration or irritation.  
“I’m sorry, Captain, I have nothing to report. I didn’t even get close enough to the anomaly for my scanners or sensors to make any sense of it.”  
“Yes, I’ve seen the analysis.” Sitting back in his chair, Jean-Luc looked up at his exec, so obviously uncomfortable with the prevailing tension in the room. The captain decided to relent. Softening his tone he invited Will to sit. Once relaxed, Will offered a rueful smile.  
“I must apologise, Captain. I know I should’ve withdrawn as soon as they asked me to, but they were so damned implacable, I let my emotions get the better of me.”  
Jean-Luc let a short breath escape his nostrils. “I understand, number one, but we senior staff must hold ourselves to a higher standard. However...” His smile was a rueful one. “Although I’ve never been a first officer, I do know the temptation that exists to go that little bit further in pursuit of achieving one’s goals, especially for one’s captain. I won’t censure you for it, Will, but really, a pissing contest?”  
The big man bowed his head. “I hear you, Captain. Again, I apologise, sir.”

“Very well, let’s say no more about it. Now...I do have something for you. While our computer has been unable to analyse anything of the aliens’ ships or their planet, we have made some progress with their gestural language.”  
Will’s head snapped up, his blue eyes squinting. “We can communicate their way?”  
“Alas, no, but the computer has been making comparisons between the movements of their fingers and the text and we’ve made some ground, not enough for communication, certainly not by human hands, but the computer may be able to simulate hands like theirs in a program that we could then run with the newly in putted information.”  
Will nodded thoughtfully. “Well, that would free things up at our end.”  
“Indeed, especially as we’d have the means to accurately decipher their gestures and compare them with the text and in doing so, see if they match.”  
“You don’t think they do?” Will frowned. “What advantage would there be in gesturing one thing and telling us another?”  
Jean-Luc shrugged. “I don’t know, but considering we only ever get to see one individual at a time...and we don’t know if it’s the same individual, there could be others nearby receiving instructions pertaining to our ‘conversations’ that we’re completely unaware of. And if that’s true, then their responses to anything we say might be guided by factors we have no control over.”  
Will’s grimace said volumes. “Like Beverly’s research.”  
“Exactly. Will, we only know what they’ve told us, which is cryptic to say the least. I’m not suggesting for one moment that they have some kind of nefarious agenda, but I want as much leverage as I can get and if that means not taking their words literally, then sobeit.”  
“Agreed. So...how is Beverly doing?”  
That made Jean-Luc frown deeply and shake his head. “I’ve no idea what she’s working on, but it’s taking a heavy toll.”  
Will offered a small smile, trying to ease the older man’s worry. “That’s nothing new, Captain. We both know what she’s like when she gets hold of something.”  
Will was concerned when Jean-Luc didn’t show any amusement. “Not this time, Will. There’s too much at stake, I think...but I don’t know what it is...none of us do and it’s damned frustrating. You know her as well as I do, Will. If she thinks she’s protecting me...or the crew, I’m not sure she wouldn’t sacrifice herself, either by working herself into exhaustion...or something worse...far worse.”  
“Worse, Captain? Like what?”  
Jean-Luc sighed and briefly closed his eyes. “Like surrendering herself to these people in the pursuit of healing whomever it is that requires her help.”  
Will’s frown was a deep one. “Do you really think she’d go that far?”  
Jean-Luc’s reply was soft and small, his deeply felt fear evident.  
“I don’t know...you tell me.”  
“Can you talk to her about it?”  
“No.”  
“Damn.”  
Jean-Luc closed his eyes and sighed. “So...nothing’s changed. We sit up here in high orbit, to all intents and purposes blind and ignorant. And we have no option but to twiddle our thumbs and wait while hoping for the best and fearing the worst.”  
“Shit.”  
“Indeed.”

 

Beverly had no idea what time it was, she’d long ago stopped feeling the protests of aching muscles and joints. Her elbows, now numb, were perched on the desktop as her fingers supported her head. Gritty, red eyes stared at the screen running one test, one simulation after another. The soft beep announcing the arrival of the intel package broke her concentration and when she sat back, she yelped at the pain that caused in her lower back.  
Rubbing the spot and slowly rotating her head, she had to clear her throat to summon her voice.  
“Computer, display new intel package.”  
In all, it took an hour-and-a-half to thoroughly read Yvette Picard’s medical records and she learned nothing. There was no record of any miscarriages, no still births, nothing to suggest anything unusual had occurred at any stage of her life. Jean-Luc’s birth had been uncomplicated, the labour moderate and the recovery standard. She was just about to resume her tests when a soft, deep voice made her jump.  
“Do you know what time it is?”  
Annoyed, but knowing his motivation for asking such a disingenuous question was born of concern, Beverly stifled the acerbic comment that threatened to slip out. Smiling up at her husband, she was taken, yet again, by how striking he was, especially backlit by the subdued light of sick bay. It was that dim lighting that made her realise it was night shift. She said nothing as Jean-Luc came into her office and sat down.   
“It’s 03.20, Beverly.” He said softly. “Please come home. You need to eat and rest.”  
Doing her best to stay calm, Beverly kept the smile on her face and made sure it reached her eyes.   
“I thought we’d had this conversation.”  
“We had.” Jean-Luc agreed. “Yet here we are again.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “Beverly...please.”  
Knowing he wasn’t going to take no for an answer, and also knowing that although she could countermand his orders, he was in a position to use his authority to have her, with the ship’s counsellor’s agreement, relieved of duty and that was something she had to avoid at all costs.  
Bowing to the inevitable, she rose stiffly and allowed her husband to escort her to their quarters.

 

Despite her desperate worry, Beverly slept heavily, only waking when she smelled the delicious aroma of fresh coffee. Cracking her eyes open she raked the fingers of one hand through her hair to find her eyes and grinned at seeing her husband sitting on the bedside, holding a cup of hot coffee near her nose.  
Mewing with pleasure, she hoisted herself up until she was sitting and took the cup gratefully, closing her eyes in appreciation as she sipped.  
“Mmm.”  
Jean-Luc smiled and said softly, “I thought you might like to begin with a heart-starter.”  
Beverly sipped again, then frowned, slightly suspicious. “Begin? Begin what?”  
“Ah yes. Instead of the usual croissants, I thought you might enjoy something different.”  
Tilting her head and still using one hand to try and tame her wild hair, Beverly did her best to ease any hurt by summoning a rueful smile.  
“Jean-Luc, I really don’t have time for anything elaborate. How about just a piece of toast?”  
His smile faded and he shook his head. “I’m afraid not, Beverly.”  
Placing the half-full cup on the bedside table, Beverly clambered quickly out of bed and turned to enter the bathroom, saying, “Computer, what is the time?”  
“Ten fifty seven.”  
She whirled around and glared at her husband. “Why the hell did you let me sleep so long?! I have to...”  
Holding up one hand, Jean-Luc’s face hardened, but his tone remained soft. “You needed the rest, Beverly, we both did. Now, I’m not going to stop you returning to work...as long as you have a decent, relaxed breakfast.”  
She knew her current appearance, hair awry and in her nightie, wasn’t exactly intimidating, but, true to form, she wasn’t about to give in without a fight.  
“You have no right to keep me from my work! I can just as easily get some breakfast from a replicator in sick bay!”  
His steady, unruffled gaze robbed Beverly of some of her fire, but what he said next only fanned the embers back to life.  
“You realise, of course, that I can invoke my authority to confine you to quarters until you’re in a fit state to work?”  
“You’d need Adams’s agreement! What would you do, Jean-Luc? Order him to collude with you?”  
Sighing, Jean-Luc gave Beverly a look of tired disbelief. “Collude, Beverly? You honestly think I would resort to collusion and that Adams would agree to it?”  
They stared at each other until Beverly muttered, “Insufferable prick!”  
As she stormed into the bathroom, Jean-Luc said mildly, “I’ll have breakfast on the table when you’re finished in there.”  
He received no reply.  
Twenty minutes later a much calmer Beverly sat at the dining room table and pulled her lips to one side as she studied the items on the table.  
Bacon and eggs, toast, waffles and syrup, sausages and fried penny potatoes. She huffed out a small chuckle and looked up at her husband to see him regarding her with one eyebrow raised.  
She held up her hands.  
“Okay, I surrender. I’m sorry, you’re right, I need a good breakfast, but really, Jean-Luc, you should’ve woken me earlier.”  
Tilting his head in acquiescence, Jean-Luc pursed his lips. “Perhaps, but Beverly, you’ve been working so hard.”  
Shaking out her napkin and placing it on her thigh, Beverly began to load food onto her plate, amusing Jean-Luc immensely. For someone so perpetually and deliciously svelte, she certainly could put food away.  
Around a mouthful of sausage, Beverly wiped the corner of her mouth and then sucked her fingertip. Swallowing half of the mouthful she mumbled, “I know, but there’s this damned knot and it’s not going to untie itself.”  
“I understand that, but...”  
Jean-Luc got no further. Beverly interrupted him by asking, “What do you know about your mother, Jean-Luc.”  
Taken aback, Jean-Luc blinked, his food-laden fork halfway to his open mouth. “Ah...Maman? Um...what do you want to know? I know her family history, of course.”  
Her mouth full again, Beverly frowned, shook her head, chewing while she waved her fork. “No,” She mumbled before swallowing. “No, not her family history...at least I don’t think so. What I want to know is about her health.”  
Now completely perplexed, Jean-Luc frowned and pulled his head back. “Her health? I don’t understand, Beverly. What about her health?”  
Still gesturing with her fork, Beverly paused only long enough to stab another bit of sausage. She popped it in her mouth, chewed for a moment or two then said offhandedly, “I know you and your brother were home births, but...”  
“How do you know that?” Jean-Luc’s tone was curious, but slightly affronted.  
“Oh, you know...” Beverly silently cursed, knowing she had to keep from letting him know she’d read his mother’s complete medical file. “You must’ve told me some time ago...anyway...did she ever tell you of any illnesses...or events concerning her health...that she didn’t seek medical help for?”  
Now clearly suspicious, Jean-Luc shook his head slowly, his eyes narrowing. “No. Nothing I know of. My mother was a strong, healthy woman; in fact she often teased my father about him marrying someone of such hardy peasant stock, not a ‘blue blood’ like the Picards.” He tilted his head and his soft voice carried his guarded hurt.  
“Beverly, are you trying to suggest our difficulties in successfully conceiving are my fault? That I may have inherited some kind of problem from my mother?”  
Her heart clenching in dismay, Beverly held up her hand and shook her head. “No! Oh, God, no, Jean-Luc.” She offered a lopsided smile. “We know it’s no one’s fault, my love.”  
He seemed to be placated, but although he smiled in return, disquiet still lingered in his eyes. He was going to ask why she wanted to know about his mother’s health when her next actions silenced him  
With warm smile, Beverly snorted softly and shook her head. “She was a strong woman, Jean-Luc, we should all be so lucky.”  
She stood and picked up her cup, gulping down the remainder of her coffee, then wiped her mouth with the serviette. Moving to her still-seated husband, she placed a tender kiss on his scalp and said softly, “Breakfast was lovely, Jean-Luc, thank you, but I really have to go now.”  
He nodded, looking up and spearing her with an intense gaze. “Don’t work so late, Beverly.”  
Smiling, she walked to the door, only hesitating a little when he said softly,  
“And eat some more during the day.”  
As the doors softly hissed closed, Jean-Luc couldn’t help but feel he’d just been lied to. And that despite his efforts to put their failures behind them and to go forward, it now seemed that Beverly was still striving to find the reasons behind their failures. He closed his eyes and threw his serviette onto the tabletop, anger, sorrow and helplessness warring for dominance.  
Food was the last thing on Beverly’s mind. The image of the two DNA samples overlaid and implicit in the conclusion they all but shouted crowded Beverly’s brain. The more she thought about it, the more sure she became, but the only way she was going to find out one way or another was to go down to the planet and see for herself.  
In her office, Beverly sat at her desk and closed her eyes, unwilling to do what she had in mind yet unable to stop. Hoping Jean-Luc was, if not still in their quarters, then not yet on the bridge, she lifted her head and said,  
“Crusher to bridge.”  
Will’s voice clearly held his affection for the doctor.  
“Riker here, Beverly.”  
“Will, I need to speak with the aliens. If you can get them to answer, could you put it through to my office, please?”  
His tone carried his reluctance. “Beverly, the captain should be the one to order something like that and he’s not up here yet.”  
“Don’t worry, Will, I’ve already spoken to him about it.”  
Will’s relief was obvious.  
“Oh, okay. We’ll hail the planet now. I’ll give you a call if we’re successful. Riker out.”  
Beverly kept her fingers crossed and they’d stay that way until she saw an alien on her office monitor, but the unpleasant feeling of having lied to and manipulated Will made the food in her stomach sour. The fallout she would have to deal with later, because no doubt when Jean-Luc found out, the shit will most definitely hit the fan.

 

As she was now accustomed to seeing, the alien lifted its hands and text scrolled across the bottom of the screen.  
“How may I be of assistance, Doctor Crusher?”  
Taking a deep breath, Beverly plunged head first into uncharted waters, the consequences of which could be devastating for the man she loved.  
“I need to come down to your planet. Not only do I need to see the afflicted patients, I also need to see their human father.”  
“That, doctor is not possible. Please confine your research, diagnosis and treatment to the information already provided, as per our agreement.”  
Beverly’s eyes glittered and her hands, resting on the desktop, fisted. “I don’t know how you apply your medical knowledge...how you go about treating your patients, but I can’t do this remotely. I am well aware that your medical knowledge far exceeds mine and perhaps you might view my methods as archaic, but that’s how I work. Medicine, as I know it, involves much more than just tests and simulations. At some stage I have to interact with my patients.”  
The text suddenly appeared underlined and in bold letters.  
“YOU MAY NOT SEE THE CONSCIENCE!”  
“The what?” Said a confused and startled Beverly.  
There were a few moments of inactivity, then more text appeared. “What you request violates a very delicate arrangement my people have with the human male. Only a very select few, numbering no more than twelve of our people have ever seen him. You are putting us in a terrible situation, doctor. By making this request, you are placing yourself in a position above that of the people.”  
Not fully understanding, but wishing to press on with her request whilst still maintaining a good relationship with the being, Beverly softened her expression and did her best to be sympathetic.  
“What I ask isn’t to place me or anyone else above or below your people; I just want to do my job. You sent an invitation to visit and a request for medical help. Your people must be aware of the terrible difficulties the Federation has endured over the last eight years so you must also know that for Starfleet to send the flagship to your world surely clearly demonstrates how important the Federation Council feels this mission is. Now...you requested ‘the most prominent healer’. I’m not saying that I am that person, far from it, but I am the Chief Medical Officer of this ship and as such, I hold the senior medical position. I know of only one way to do my job. I have identified the condition. It is an inherited one, very rare and also very unusual in that it is carried by the males. In almost all inherited human conditions, the defective gene is carried by the female. Why this condition is exclusively male, I don’t know. It is also incurable; at least once it manifests itself. But it does resolve itself relatively quickly. Because of this and its rarity, almost no research has ever been carried out. I need to see the carrier; the human male and I need to see the hybrid offspring. I’ve done all I can here; the time has come when I must get what we humans call...’hands on.’ It’s the only way I’ve got any chance of finding a way to cure those children.”  
The alien’s hands lifted a little higher.  
“If what you say is true and that the condition is caused by a defective gene, why wasn’t it screened for and removed from the carriers before they reproduced? That would have ended the condition permanently in all those of the male population who carried it.”  
Beverly’s smile was a sad one. “How much do you know of Earth’s history?”  
“Of the broad history, very little. Our concern has been with the development of humans in general as a species and only specifically within the last four hundred years.”  
That was somewhat alarming, but to her credit, Beverly didn’t show anything but polite interest.  
“I see. Well unfortunately up until about three hundred years ago, humans warred with each other with depressing regularity. The final war, known as the ‘Eugenics War’ almost wiped humans out.”  
“Yes, we know of that conflict. It made our work difficult. The enhanced human males were...unsuitable.”  
Somehow Beverly kept her expression neutral as she thought, “What the hell does that mean? Just how long have these beings really been dabbling in humankind? And what the hell is ‘the conscience’?” Gathering herself, she said mildly,  
“Oh, I see.” maintaining her calm demeanour. “Well as a result of that war, it was decided to outlaw genetic interference, especially DNA resequencing. That’s not to say we don’t routinely screen for inherited diseases or conditions and remove them when we find them, but we’ve devoted ourselves to those defects that have the propensity to be fatal or common, that is occurring in a large percentage of the population. The condition at fault here, as I’ve already explained, is exceptionally rare, not fatal and once exhibited, resolves itself. So few of the population are affected by it, there just didn’t seem to be the need to expend the effort involved in eradicating it.”  
“If you cannot cure it, why do you think you can help the afflicted young?”  
“Because of their hybridism. The condition has presented itself in a very different way, one which I may be able to cure. But I won’t know for sure until I can do a physical examination.”  
“Then why do you wish to see the human male?”  
Casually sliding a medical tricorder in one hand and a fluid extractor in the other off her desk, she settled the instruments on her thighs, mentally crossing her fingers. Outwardly she stayed calm, a warm smile on her face.  
“I have learned from the information you sent that your healers cured the human when he exhibited the condition as a young child.”  
“That is correct.”  
“Well, from what I’ve seen in the images, there have been some changes made in his aural system.”  
“That too is correct.”  
“I need to examine him to see for myself, first hand, what has been done.”  
“That makes no sense. The images we sent you show what has taken place.”  
“It’s true I’ve seen the result of what you did, but human physiology is more complex than that. It undergoes its own changes all the time, cell regeneration for instance, the human body is in a constant state of flux and the changes you instigated will have been successfully integrated, no doubt, but you may not be aware that the human male’s aural system may still be adjusting.”  
“But that is absurd! The medical intervention took place 67 of your years ago. Surely his body would have accepted the changes made so long ago? We have detected no impediment in his hearing or any adverse reactions to what we did.”  
“I’m not saying you will. All I am saying is that I have to see these alterations for myself as they are now, this very moment.”  
There was an uncomfortable hiatus before the text scrolled.  
“So you wish immediate transport to our world?”  
Taking a deep breath and briefly closing her eyes as she thought, “Forgive me. Jean-Luc.” She summoned a small smile and nodded.  
“Yes, that’s exactly what I want.”  
She never felt the transport. There was no sound, no light; she simply winked out of existence.

 

Feeling vaguely restless, his mind still plagued with disturbing thoughts and remorseless sorrow, Jean-Luc resisted the urge to retreat into his ready room, oddly needing the companionship of his first officer, so he was on the bridge when tactical said with a slightly alarmed voice, “Captain! We’ve detected some sort of power surge from the anomaly.”  
Both Jean-Luc and Will rose from their seats and walked quickly to the tactical station. They watched as information appeared on the console screen, along with a grainy vid that showed a sudden and very short-lived flash. Even though the computer had faithfully recorded it and expressed the phenomenon in the best way it could, it still offered no real information that explained exactly what had taken place.  
Folding his arms across his chest, Jean-Luc stared down at the console screen pensively as the one-point one second vid played in a repeating loop.  
“Computer,” He said thoughtfully. “If that was an energy burst of some description would it be possible for it to be deliberately generated, then directed...focused, perhaps?”  
“There is insufficient data to give a definitive answer.”  
“Theorise.”  
“It is possible. The magnitude of the phenomenon is powerful enough to easily reach the planet below. If there was some method in place to not only collect it, but to physically direct it, then yes, it could be directed at the discretion of the beings that are responsible for creating it.”  
Will’s eyebrows rose. “Now that is very interesting.”  
Jean-Luc nodded slowly. “Computer, again, theorise. What kind of power surge could be generated at that magnitude and to what purpose, if it was indeed deliberately directed to the planet we are currently orbiting could it be used?”  
“From what little information has been gained, it is possible what has been witnessed is a controlled nuclear fusion reaction. In this instance it seems most likely to be caused by atoms of hydrogen coming together to cause the fusion.”  
Almost to himself, Jean-Luc muttered, “The normal process at work in a G2V star, much the same as Earth’s.” He looked up at Will, his eyes wide with wonder. “Atoms of carbon, nitrogen and oxygen fuse to create two atoms of hydrogen combined to create helium 4, the ongoing process creates massive amounts of energy! My god, Will. It may be that these beings have discovered a way to create, harness and control the power of a tiny star!”  
He lifted his head slightly and said in awe, “Computer, can you discern any trace of that energy being directed anywhere? And if you can, is it possible for you to ascertain the purpose of generating such energy?”  
“That will require further analysis.”  
“Do it! And alert me as soon as you’ve completed it.”  
The chime of compliance was lost as Jean-Luc again directed his gaze at his exec. They held each other’s eyes until Will said softly, “Little wonder they could take out a Borg cube with one shot.”  
“Indeed. If you could put the power of a star in your weapons...you’d be...”  
“Invincible?”  
“Bloody dangerous.” The captain sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Still, humankind has been doing much the same thing, on a much smaller scale for a very long time. I just hope these beings remain as benign as they seem to want us to believe they are.”  
Will shrugged.  
“Yeah, well if what the computer says is true, it’s not going to matter much either way. With power like that at hand...”  
Jean-Luc was about to say more when the red alert siren sounded. Returning immediately to their seats, Jean-Luc barked, “Report!”  
For several long, slow seconds nothing happened, then the officer at tactical said quietly, “Doctor Crusher has been taken off the ship, sir.”  
Twisting in his seat, Jean-Luc frowned and tried to keep calm. “Explain. What do you mean by ‘taken’?”  
The young woman shrugged. “I can’t tell you, sir. One minute she was in her office, the next she was...gone. The computer detected her disappearance and the red alert was an automatic response.”  
Will’s stomach clenched as he said quietly, “She requested communications with the aliens only half-an-hour ago.”  
Jean-Luc turned his head slowly and riveted Will with an icy glare. “Who initiated the contact?”  
With a terrible sinking feeling, Will briefly closed his eyes and said, “I did, Captain.”  
“On whose authority?” Jean-Luc’s soft tone was deadly.  
“I’m sorry, Captain.” Said Will, realising what Beverly had done to him. “When Doctor Crusher requested the contact I reminded her that such a request had to go through you, but she told me she’d already spoken to you. I assumed...”  
“You assumed, Commander? May I remind you that you should have brought it to my attention immediately!”  
Jean-Luc had to calm himself. He knew Will had been duped, that Beverly had used her friendship and familiarity to neatly bypass him and now it seemed that she may have bitten off far more than she could chew. He took a deep breath and said quietly, “Cancel red alert. Hail the planet.”

The great floe was vast and across its surface, with the masses of ice, floated the dead, prepared in the traditional way. All the bodies maintained a barely detectable glow. As the flash of energy from the anomaly reached them, the glow intensified. From each body a shaft of pure light emerged and coalesced into an enormous shimmering cloud. That in turn moved, seemingly drawn inexorably towards an unknown destination.  
As the cloud moved from the floe and onto the frozen land, a portion of the bodies ceased all glowing and silently sank through the gelid water to their final resting place. The remainder stayed afloat, their ability to provide for their people not yet exhausted.  
Inland, at a stunningly beautiful city, one that blended seamlessly with its icy surroundings, the cloud of light slowly gathered and condensed over a dark wide disc. It descended and was absorbed. Inside the building, the beings watched their monitors as the energy levels rose.  
With reverent bows they gave thanks to their dead.

 

The first thing to strike Beverly was the absence of sound. She was in a plain room, there was no transporter pad, no furniture or equipment, yet it didn’t feel sterile or forbidding. Tentatively she said, “Is there anyone here?”  
The wall to her left suddenly displayed a screen. It was dark and as Beverly walked the few steps to it, she shivered, realising for the first time she was a little cold. Text appeared on the screen.  
“What are the instruments you have brought?”  
Holding up her hands and offering the tricorder and extractor, she explained, “Just some diagnostic tools I require.”  
At her feet an object appeared. She didn’t read the new text until she’d bent to pick it up.  
“Put the eye shield on.”  
Briefly inspecting the shield, Beverly put it on. It covered both eyes and left her effectively blind. It was the very subtle change of atmosphere that let her know someone had entered the room. She couldn’t contain the soft yelp of surprise when an unfamiliar hand gently took hers. But before she could react, her hand was placed on what she thought might be a shoulder. It was very cool to her touch. There was a soft hum, as if something was in operation. She felt another hand on her back and very gently she was guided, but to where, she had no idea.

 

Jean-Luc wasn’t able to resist the urge to pace. Will sat morosely in his seat, still upset, both with Beverly and the current situation. They had hailed the planet but so far, they’d received no reply.  
Jean-Luc came to an abrupt halt and turned his head, glaring stonily at the planet. His voice was tight as he said, “Computer, have you managed to interpret the gestural language yet?”  
“No. The complexity of movement and the subtlety of the gestures makes it difficult to extrapolate a cohesive syntax. More examples of the gestures, combined with the presumed correlation with accompanied text are required.”  
Will had rarely seen his captain look so deeply disturbed. His clipped, “Hail them again and keep hailing until the respond!” almost made Will wince. He closed his eyes and bowed his head, thinking, “Oh, shit, Beverly, you’ve done it this time.”

 

It wasn’t until the alien gently removed her hand from its shoulder that Beverly understood they had reached their destination. She felt a slight pressure on the side of the eye shield, making the total blackness lighten and she squinted at the bright glow that permeated the room, but it quickly disappeared and in the ensuing silence she realised she was alone. She could just see through the shield and made out a screen on the wall. She went to it and read, “You may remove the eye shield.”  
This she did and was happily surprised to see one side of the room was completely made up of a clear material, enabling her to look out over what was obviously a dim, frozen wasteland.   
She was engrossed when a sudden voice, whose timbre and character were so familiar, made her gasp. Had it not been for the fact that the softly spoken voice was unaccented and in French, she would’ve had no doubt whatsoever that Jean-Luc had just entered the room.  
“Vos cheveux, il est rouge.”  
“Your hair, it is red?” she thought frantically. Panic rose. She tried to see his reflection in the window, but nothing showed except the vista of outside, so she slowly turned, trying to prepare herself, but ultimately the shock made her stagger backwards, uttering, “Jean-Luc!”  
He was with her in two quick strides, taking her by her upper arms to steady her. Again in perfect French he said, “Qu’est-ce que, Jean-Luc?”  
In her mind she gasped, “Oh God...he speaks French! He wants to know...what is Jean-Luc?” At first no sound came from Beverly’s open mouth as she scrambled to recover. He was too close, his eyes, so familiar to her, his questioning expression so quintessentially Jean-Luc, panic began to rise. The conscience frowned, trying to understand what was happening. He didn’t help matters by asking, still in French, if Beverly was all right, if she needed a healer to be summoned.  
Over the years, Jean-Luc had been teaching Beverly his native tongue, not in any formal way, just as a casual interest, but though Beverly had picked up quite a bit, she was by no means fluent. Finally finding her equilibrium, she straightened up and gently extricated herself from his grasp and taking a step back, Beverly dredged up a smile and said, “I’m afraid my French isn’t as good as yours. Can you speak to me in this language?”  
His eyebrow rose in mild amusement, again the gesture achingly familiar. “Standard?” He asked in his unaccented voice. “Yes, I can speak to you in standard.”  
Her smile wavering a little, Beverly said softly, “You speak French as well?”  
His gaze rooted her to the spot and her heart accelerated as she kept telling herself he was not Jean-Luc.  
“French? I did not know what it was called. I know two spoken languages, the other I have only recently been told is called standard.”  
“Why did you choose to use French when you first spoke?”  
He sighed and his eyes drifted to one side. “I do not know. I...seeing you...your hair...” He sighed again and Beverly could see he was struggling to find the words to express himself.  
“I just felt more...comfortable.”  
They stood facing each other, one intensely curious, the other desperately unnerved.  
What he did next made Beverly close her eyes and stand stock-still. He stepped up to her and slowly walked around her, inspecting her with obvious curiosity. Once again facing her, Beverly felt him touch her hair. That made her open her eyes. He was staring at the hair he held in his fingers and when he lifted it to smell it, Beverly almost pulled away, it was overwhelming...almost too much to cope with.  
His eyes travelled to Beverly’s face and his expression was one of wonder. “I have never seen another human face. May I touch you?”  
Beverly didn’t know whether to run, cry or just acquiesce. In the end his pleading expression overruled her panic.  
“Yes.” She whispered.  
His fingertips explored every facet of her face, his touch so soft as to be ethereal. At first, Beverly watched his eyes, but his gaze was too intense, so she used the time to get a look at the rest of him. His clothing was not unusual, He wore a pale green tunic with dark blue trousers and his feet were covered in what appeared to be soft, thick slippers. She noticed that his clothing was also thick and again she shivered. His head tilted and he offered a lopsided smile.  
“You are not adequately clothed.”  
“No.” Beverly smiled. “I didn’t know this world is a cold one.”  
He stepped back and turned his head to gaze out the window. “Yes, my world is cold.” He then returned his attention to Beverly. “You have not answered my question.”  
Frowning, Beverly asked, “What question?”  
“What is Jean-Luc?”  
Starting to relax a little, Beverly answered with a question of her own. “Why do you want to know?”  
His small smile and the twinkle in his eyes tugged forcibly at Beverly heart. Oh, how many times she’d seen Jean-Luc look just like that!  
“Because...” he stepped closer again and Beverly stood her ground. “Because that’s what you said when you first saw me, and although I know nothing of human gestures or reactions, I can’t help but feel you were either shocked or frightened. So, I ask again. What is Jean-Luc and why did you say that when you saw me?”  
Again, Beverly chose to reply with another question.  
“Do you know what the word ‘odds’ means?”  
Although his expression clearly showed his annoyance at her refusal to answer his question, he still replied, but with a sigh and frown. “Odds? Something unusual? Not normal or natural?”  
Beverly smiled and puffed out a short breath through her nose. “Not exactly. That’s ‘odd’, I said ‘odds’.”  
His eyes darkened and, just like Jean-Luc, his voice softened with growing anger.  
“Are you here to parry with semantics?”  
Holding up a placating hand, Beverly shook her head. “No and I apologise, but before I can answer your question, can you tell me how it is you came to be here?”  
His tone clipped, he said, “I was born here! This is my home, I was chosen. I am the Conscience.”  
Beverly desperately needed more information, but she was loath to further upset the man. Keeping her tone gentle, she asked, “What do you know of the method the beings of this world...your world...use to obtain a ‘Conscience’?”  
He turned abruptly and walked to the port, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. A tense silence ensued before he began to tell Beverly the history of the conscience. When he’d finished, Beverly knew. This man was indeed Jean-Luc’s identical twin brother. Her softly whispered, “Oh, God!” made the man tilt his head to see under her lowered brow.  
It took a few minutes for Beverly to recover. Lifting her head, she couldn’t keep the tears from her eyes, but she kept her voice steady.  
“The word ‘odds’ pertains to chance. It is the estimation of the probability of something occurring.”  
“And how does that pertain to me?” The man was beginning to understand that something important was about to be disclosed.  
“Jean-Luc.” Beverly said, and by the way she said it, the man knew it meant something crucial to this strange female.  
“When you were taken, as an embryo from your human mother, there was another embryo inside her womb.”  
“I know that, I have already explained to you how my people perfected the technique to correctly identify human females carrying more than one unformed being. It was to remove the chance of emotional damage that occurred when the mother was aware she’d ‘lost’ a developing child that the method was used. As long as a male embryo was present in the female and the female was unaware of her pregnancy, then the male was taken.”  
“That brings us back to ‘odds’”  
Impatiently he snapped,  
“You are talking in riddles! What do you mean?”  
“What do you think the odds would be that the other embryo that was in your mother’s womb was a male and that he grew to become a star ship captain?”  
The implications were slowly becoming evident. Taking two steps back, the man said quietly, “What, exactly are you saying?”  
“Jean-Luc is a name. It is the name of my husband, the captain of the ship in orbit and...your identical twin brother.”  
Shaking his head, making his long, thick braid swing from side-to-side, the man backed away, saying angrily, “NO! That is preposterous! It is impossible!”  
“Is it?” asked Beverly softly. “I suppose when you look at it objectively, the odds aren’t all that astronomical. Seeing as how your people chose human males specifically and then only ones taken from a multiple pregnancy and given Earth’s expanding forays into space and the number of men and women who choose to work in space, I guess the possibility always existed that one day one of you...stolen children would eventually encounter a brother...or sister.”  
If Beverly expected another outburst she was disappointed. The man drifted to the port and lifted his head, gazing up into the dark sky. Ice particles, driven by a fierce wind shattered noiselessly against the window, but such an occurrence was normal and went unnoticed by the man.  
After several long minutes he asked softly, “What is he like?”  
“Well,” Beverly moved to stand beside him. “Apart from your hair, physically you seem to be identical.”  
He didn’t take his gaze from the sky, but his question held faint amusement. “He has hair? Like yours?”  
That made Beverly snort. “No, not like mine. Like you, he is bald, but unlike you, he does not let what little hair he has grow. He keeps his hair clipped very short.”  
In an action that was obviously a familiar one the man gripped his braid and brought it around to the front of his body. He lifted it, but didn’t look at it. “My people do not have hair. I was very surprised as I grew to maturity when hair began to grow on my body and face. It is only because my one does not like the hair on my face that I remove it. Does...he?”  
“Yes.”  
He let the braid fall. “I have read descriptions of former consciences and it seems that human males are supposed to have hair on their heads.” He looked at Beverly briefly, then directed his gaze back at the sky. “Like yours. Most of the hair on my head...went away when I was not long matured. Did that happen the same way to him?”  
Smiling gently, Beverly nodded. “Yes. It’s an inherited condition called male alopecia, and was once very common. It can be either removed as a genetic trait or treated successfully when it begins to manifest itself.”  
“I do not understand. If he had the opportunity to correct a fault, then why did he not do so?”  
Taking her eyes off the man beside her, Beverly looked up at the sky. Whether or not they were searching for the same thing, she couldn’t say.   
“To answer that, you would have to know the man. He is very...traditional. The alopecia has been in his...your...family for generations. He saw no need to alter something that was part of who he was.”  
“It does not detract from his...appearance?”  
Before she realised the ramifications of her reply, Beverly admitted, “Oh no! In fact I think it makes him even more attractive. He’s a very handsome man.”  
The man blinked and turned to look at Beverly intensely. “You think I am attractive?”  
Taking a steadying breath, Beverly smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “You recall I said you were physically identical to your brother?”  
He nodded silently.  
“Well it takes more than just appearance to make a person attractive, at least to me. Jean-Luc is a very erudite man. He’s highly intelligent, curious, gentle, caring, very well educated, honourable and noble. All those things he has become as a consequence of his life’s experiences. You may look the same, you may sound the same, you even possess some of the same gestures, but you are not that same man. I love my husband...I love him for who and what he is. You are who and what you are and that’s different. You are a different person. Yes, you are physically attractive, but I am not attracted to you.”  
He seemed to accept that and another silence endured, broken when he asked.  
“What does, Jean-Luc mean?”  
“Um...what do you mean, exactly? It’s his name.”  
“Yes, I recognised the words as being of the other language...French, but I do not know what they mean.”  
“Oh. Now I looked this up once....let me think.” She frowned the tilted her head. “Um, well, in standard, it’s John-Luke. John comes from, ah...an old language called Hebrew and means, ‘God is gracious’. Luke is...um... Greek, another ancient Earth language and I think means, ‘light giving’. They are the names of two of the Apostles. Jean-Luc are the same words, only in French, your other language.”  
In obvious confusion, the man asked,  
“Apostles? God?”  
“Long story, but you haven’t told me your name.”  
He sighed. “I do not have a name, other than the ‘conscience’. Sometimes I am referred to as ‘you’.”  
“Oh. I’m sorry.”  
Raising his eyebrows and making Beverly briefly close her eyes in the process as her heart missed a beat, the man asked softly, “Why? Why are you sorry?”  
Beverly made a cutting gesture with her hand.  
“No, I shouldn’t be sorry, I let my endemic societal habits overrule my thinking. I shouldn’t have.”  
“All right, I accept that, but it is still a valid question. Why does my lack of a name cause you to feel the need to apologise?”  
Shrugging, Beverly pulled down the corners of her mouth. “Everyone I’ve ever met, no matter what the species has possessed a name, or at least some personal way of identifying them. I just think, seeing as you’re human, that it’s sad you don’t have a name.”  
“Hmm. I must admit I have thought about it over the years. My people have names but I cannot know them as they are indecipherable and cannot be interpreted as text.”  
That made Beverly frown. “You can’t communicate with your people?”  
“Not by their gestural language, no. It is for that reason that I was taught the languages of the world of my origin. Those of my people who interact with me know and understand those languages so when I speak they understand.” He smiled that ‘Jean-Luc’ smile and asked, “What is your name?”  
“Beverly.” She put aside the effect he was having on her and smiled.  
“And that means?”  
Beverly couldn’t help but laugh, delighting the man. “It’s an old English word that means, ‘near the meadows of the beavers’.”  
They both chuckled and he shrugged. “I am not sure I know what a beaver is.”  
Shaking her head, Beverly said wryly, “You’re not missing much.”  
He smiled then and again Beverly’s heart lurched. He bent slightly forward and said conspiratorially, “I have given my children names, but it is a secret known only by me, my children and my one. To the others, my children have names appropriate for this world but neither I nor my children know them, but their mother does.”  
“They can’t communicate by gesture?”  
“Alas, no. Their hands, though not like mine, still lack the complexity to master the gestural language of my people. They have inherited my ability to vocalise so with me they can talk, but with their mother they must communicate with her as I do.”  
“And that is how?”  
He lifted his left arm and showed Beverly the inbuilt screen. “Integrated into my clothing is a micro hyper-laser which can discern the gestures and a micro processor interprets them into text.”  
Again they contemplated the frozen land before Beverly said quietly, “You do have a name.”  
He turned his head quickly. “I do?”  
“Yes. Humans have a familiar name and a family name. Your family name is Picard. Your brother’s full name is, Jean-Luc Picard.”  
He looked back up at the sky, his voice a soft whisper. “Picard.” He said the word as if trying it out. “I am...Picard.”  
Casting a look down at her tricorder, Beverly said gently, “I must return to my ship soon, I’m not actually supposed to be here. I need to examine you. Is that all right?”  
He seemed distracted as he said, “Examine me.”  
“Yes.” Beverly said cautiously. “Just your ears and your auditory system, and I’d like to take some blood.”  
He turned then and smiled, although it was guarded. “Very well. Then you will examine my children?”  
“Yes.”  
While Beverly deployed her tricorder, the conscience asked quietly, “Does he know anything about his parents?”  
“Your parents.” Beverly gently corrected. “Yes. Although he knows quite a lot about your mother’s family, it is the Picard line of your father that he knows the most about. In fact, it’s because generation after generation of Picards have passed down the information about their family line that the unbroken genetic lineage can be traced back for many, many centuries.”  
“What do you mean by ‘line’?”  
Her eyes on the tricorder screen, Beverly said distractedly, “Oh...it’s known incorrectly as the ‘blood line’. It is like a connected line, linking each individual by a genetic trace. Each time humans reproduce, the two individuals provide genetic material that combines in the new offspring and with each subsequent generation, those genes are passed on, although over a long period of time, the genetic trait does attenuate, it never completely disappears. So it is possible to trace a particular family ‘line’ by the genes they carry.”  
“The family name, ‘Picard’, that is his...our...father’s family name?”  
“Yes.”  
“Then what is our mother’s family name?”  
“Gessard. It’s another long story, but generally speaking, it is common for some woman to adopt their mate’s family name and in turn, bestow that family name on their children.”  
“So you share the ‘Picard’ name with your...husband...and your children do also.”  
“No and no.”  
He turned to look at her, making Beverly lift her head to return his questioning gaze. Sighing, Beverly explained.  
“I chose not to take his name. I married another man a long time ago and I took his family name, but he died. When I married Jean-Luc, I decided not to take his name as I have been known by my previous married name for a very long time. As for children, we have none.”  
He frowned and tilted his head. “You have no children? You do not want children?”  
Sighing, Beverly struggled to quell her rising desolation.  
“We wanted very much to have children, but unfortunately we cannot.”  
“Why?”  
“We don’t know.”  
“But you are a healer. Can you not...?”  
“No.”  
It was said with such finality that the man instinctively knew to let the matter drop. Instead he asked, “What is your family name?”  
Summoning a wan smile, Beverly replied, “Before I married my first husband, I was Beverly Howard. I am now Beverly Crusher.” Her smile widened. “I have a son. His father was my first husband, Jack Crusher.”  
The man’s eyebrows rose and he smiled warmly. “That is wonderful.” Then he frowned, saying softly, “If you have had a child before that seems to suggest that it might be Jean-Luc’s genetic input that is at fault.”  
Trying her best to keep calm, Beverly used the time to extract a sample of blood.  
“All the tests we have run cannot discover what is at fault and considering you, as Jean-Luc’s identical twin has successfully reproduced, then there should be no problem with him. We’ve certainly found none. And, as you pointed out, I have successfully reproduced in the past, so we know I’m capable.” She sighed and closed her tricorder. “It remains a mystery, one that’s unlikely to be solved.”  
“Why?”  
Lowering her eyes, Beverly fiddled with the tricorder’s scanning module. “Because we’ve given up.” Shoving the module into its recess, Beverly looked up and said firmly, “I’d like to see your children now, please.”  
The conscience was very confused, unable to correctly or accurately gauge either Beverly’s emotional state or her body language, he had no option but to drop the subject and bow to her wishes.  
“Of course. Please, follow me.”   
They walked a short distance from the room, along a moderately lit, pale mauve corridor until they came to a door. It was surrounded by a bright blue light. The conscience turned to Beverly and said reverently, “My children are inside. I must remind you to make absolutely no noise.”  
Frowning, Beverly held up her tricorder.  
“I have adjusted the sound output of this instrument to its lowest setting, but I cannot silence it completely.”  
The man shook his head in worry and dismay. “Must you use it? I know our healers have sent you all the relevant information about my children.”  
Beverly understood the man’s reluctance to expose his children to pain, but she had little choice. Gently she said,  
“That is true, but as I told one of your healers, I cannot practice medicine remotely. I did all I could with what had been sent to me, but I came to the point where I had to come and examine my patients myself, using equipment and methods that are familiar to me. It’s the only way I know how to do my job.”  
The conscience lowered his head, obviously struggling with the situation. Eventually he sighed and his shoulders slumped. “I will need to compose a message my children will have to read before you use your...device.”  
While Beverly watched, the man spoke quietly.  
“My dear ones, this being is a human healer. She has come to help, but to do so she must use an instrument to examine you. It will make a very soft sound. I am sorry, I know it will cause you pain, but she will conduct her examinations with as much haste as possible and hopefully discover a way to cure you. I will be with you.”  
He then said wearily, “Remove your shoes.”  
Not asking why, but guessing anyway, Beverly did as she was requested. The man waved his hand over a part of the wall near the door and it silently opened. Inside the light was moderate, something Beverly was becoming accustomed to and on silent feet, the two adults moved into the room.   
It was only years of experience that allowed Beverly to resist the urge to falter. Obviously she’d never seen beings such as these, but what she was seeing was so remarkable she wanted to immediately take a vid, but that was impossible as it would create more sound.  
The four children were seated around a padded table on muffled chairs. That they had human DNA was clear, but Beverly could only guess at what their mother might look like, but one thing was certain. The native population must glow. The children all glowed, but softly. Beverly remembered the eye shield and the bright glow she’d seen before it disappeared. Putting two and two together produced an inescapable conclusion. Bioluminescence. At least that was her assumption. Whether or not it was correct, she hoped to find out. To make sure of maintaining silence, all the children were naked. Beverly correctly assumed that even the tiny sounds of clothing rustling would be intolerable to them.  
Each child differed in their hybridism, but it was only by slight degrees. Each was humanoid, and three had eyes the same colour as their father, the other, a male had bright orange eyes. The eye sockets of all of them were wider than a human’s and uptilted, the eye lids came up from below the eye rather than down from above. Their noses were mostly flat, but one of the males had a more prominent nose. The mouths were lower on the face, the lips very thin, although again, the female had slightly fuller lips. Instead of individual teeth, they each had a solid crescent of hard yellow material above and below inside their mouths and their tongues were thinner and more flexible.  
Each had hair, worn like their father in a braid. Two of the boys had hair the same colour as Beverly remembered Jean-Luc having; the other boy’s was lighter. The girl’s hair was very dark, almost black. There was no evidence of hair anywhere else on their bodies.  
They had average length arms and legs, but their hands were astonishing. Like their mother, they possessed seven fingers, but unlike her, lacked the number of joints that would have enabled the gestural language. The fingers were very long and slender and were constantly moving and twitching as if trying to make the gestures. Their feet were slender and possessed seven longish toes but no nails.  
Their bodies were quite thin, but of average height for their age. Beverly idly wondered if their hybridism was making the metabolising of food difficult or if they were simply exhibiting a trait of their mother.  
Their sexual organs, at least the males were similar to human’s but with much smaller testes and no glans on their penises. The female had no discernible outer sexual organs. She did possess what Beverly believed were developing breasts, but lower down her chest and the nipples were tiny and had no areola.  
While they read their father’s message, Beverly walked silently around the table, smiling and using her senses to gather information. It wasn’t until the man caught her eye and nodded that she knew to begin her examination.  
It was the longest ten minutes of Beverly’s life. The wretched children sobbed in pain and beseeched their father to help them and that only added to their agony. Even when the tricorder had gathered all the information it could, just closing the instrument, the quiet ratchet noise making one of the boys howl. Beverly stood and closed her eyes as the blighted children accepted their father’s silent physical comfort. Slowly they recovered until the room was once again without sound.  
Beverly was so grateful the fluid extractor operated silently. She went to each child and took a blood sample, then nodded to the man. She moved to the door and watched as he gently stroked his children’s heads then pressed his cheek against their faces.  
Once back in the corridor, the man slumped against the wall, tears streaming down his face. Wishing to offer solace, and forgetting this man was not her husband, Beverly wrapped one arm across his shoulders and allowed her head to rest against his, kissing his cheek tenderly, while her other hand, holding the fluid extractor, went to his face where her fingers wiped away his tears. The only other person to do something so intimate had been his one and she had never kissed him. He wrenched himself away, his hand going to his cheek. Beverly, realising her terrible error, strove to apologise. In the face of his confused and shocked expression, she didn’t know how she was going to explain herself.  
Holding up one hand, she said earnestly, “I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to be so...” She took a steadying breath and tried again. “I momentarily forgot you are not my husband. When I saw you so distressed, I wanted to offer comfort. I overstepped my bounds. Again, I apologise wholeheartedly.”  
Using the backs of his hands, in the exact same way as Jean-Luc would, the man wiped his face and regained control. After a few awkward moments he spoke but his voice was deep and very rough.   
“What was it you did?”  
Narrowing her eyes, Beverly asked, “I don’t know what you’re asking.”  
His fingers feathered over his lips. “With your mouth...your lips...what did you do?”  
She couldn’t stop the blush from rising, colouring her alabaster skin bright red. This astonished the man and he stepped forward to touch Beverly’s face. She caught his wrist and shook her head.  
“No, don’t, please. I’m embarrassed enough.”  
“I was not aware you could do that. My people can change but not like that. Can all human females do it?”  
His fascination only made things worse. Beverly took a deep breath and strove to regain her composure.  
“It’s not only females, males do it too. It’s called blushing and is a physical response to emotional stimulus. With practice, it can be controlled. Your brother can control the reflex...mostly.”  
“Mostly?” He seemed amused. Although very uncomfortable, Beverly decided it would help keep him distracted from his distress.  
“Jean-Luc, as a star ship captain has to have many skills, necessary when dealing with alien species. It can be exceptionally dangerous to display any outward sign of internal emotions.”  
“That makes sense, but your word was ‘mostly’. By that I can only assume there are times when he either cannot control it or does not wish to control it.”  
Beverly felt the blood rushing to her face again and she silently cursed. “When Jean-Luc is off duty, that is when he is enjoying time away from command, then he is quite different. He becomes what I refer to as ‘private’ Jean-Luc and sometimes there are situations that cause him to blush, but only in my company and in the privacy of our...home.”  
Although the words were spoken quite seriously, there was a wickedly amused glint in the man’s eyes as he said baldly, “During intimate play.”  
Closing her eyes briefly, Beverly said quietly, “Sometimes, yes.”  
“Hmm, interesting. And my question?”  
“What?”  
Again he touched his fingers to his lips, but said nothing further.  
Lowering her eyes until she was looking at his dimpled chin, Beverly muttered, “That is called a ‘kiss’.”  
“Tell me more.”  
Clearing her throat, Beverly dragged her eyes back to his and swallowed. “I really should be getting back to my ship.”  
Sensing she had become very defensive, the man let the matter go. He nodded but tilted his head, his expression serious, and asked,  
“The condition I have passed on to my children. Does it have a name?”  
Relieved to be on firmer ground, Beverly squared her shoulders, once again the confident doctor.  
“Yes. It’s called Shalaft’s Syndrome.”  
“Shalaft’s” Again he said the word as if testing it in his mouth. His next question was inevitable. “Does it have a meaning?”  
Beverly shook her head. “Not that I’m aware of per se. It’s the family name of the person who first described the condition. Some family names have meanings, some don’t.”  
With a small movement of his hand, Beverly understood he wished her to accompany him. As they walked he said quietly, “You suspected something about me didn’t you. You discovered something in what the healers sent you and that is why you insisted on seeing me. You had to find out for certain that what you suspected was true.”  
Beverly said nothing.  
“He does not know about me, does he?”  
Beverly just shook her head.  
“Are you going to tell him?”  
Sighing sadly, Beverly shook her head. “I don’t think I can.”  
“Why?” His tone was disappointed and confused.  
“Because I gave my word to your healers that I wouldn’t divulge anything of what I learned about you or your children.”  
“But...” The man came to a halt and squeezed his eyes shut. Beverly waited, not quite knowing what was to happen next. When he opened his eyes the sadness and confusion was clear.  
“Before...before you came I had never given any thought to what I am, other than I am the conscience. I have known all my life that I am not like my people, but I was born here...I am of my people...I serve my people...I was chosen. Long ago I found out I was a human, but it didn’t mean anything to me. I had no interest in exploring what that meant; where I originated from...it was of no consequence. Now I find there are others...and a place called Earth...and I have a brother...exactly like me.” He walked in a small circle his fingers jerking and twitching much as his children’s had done. “I want to see him...I want to talk to him...you cannot take him away from me...please!”  
Closing her eyes again, the urge to take him into her embrace was almost overwhelming. She forced her eyes open and looked him in the eye.   
“I don’t know what to say! I’m not even supposed to be here. When I go back to my ship I’m going to be in a lot of trouble. Telling Jean-Luc about you will only compound what is already a bad situation. The ramifications aren’t merely personal; there could well be adverse political fallout if I make a misstep.”  
The expression of utter desolation on a face so dear to her was like a punch in her gut. Lowering her head, Beverly closed her eyes and sighed.  
“Oh, hell. Look, leave it with me. If I think I can tell him without compromising this entire situation...I will...but...no promises. All right? That’s the best I can do.”  
He stepped close and with remarkable gentleness took her hands, still holding her instruments, and looked into her eyes. The way he said his next words made tears appear in Beverly’s eyes.  
“Thank you, Beverly.”  
Swallowing the lump in her throat, she allowed him to lead her into a room she thought she’d begun in. Sure enough the next thing she saw was the interior of her office in sick bay.  
On the bridge, the red alert siren sounded again. Jean-Luc, still restlessly pacing, barked, “Report!”  
The officer at tactical made sure her voice was even when she said, “Doctor Crusher is back aboard, Captain.”  
Striding towards the aft lift, Jean-Luc’s body radiated anger. His clipped, “You have the bridge, number one; I’ll be in sick bay.” made Will grimace. “If I were you, Beverly,” He thought, “I’d hide right about now.” Out loud he said, “Aye, Captain.”  
He needn’t have bothered. Jean-Luc ignored him. As the lift doors closed, everyone on the bridge let out a collective sigh of relief, the level of tension slipping away to almost nothing.

 

Beverly’s back was to the door of her office as she began to download the information from her tricorder. She only became aware of Jean-Luc’s presence when his angry voice barked, “Computer, lock office doors and opaque windows!”  
Briefly closing her eyes, Beverly turned abruptly and came to attention, but the anger and hurt in her husband’s eyes made her drop her gaze to star sightlessly at his chest.  
Almost trembling in fury, Jean-Luc said roughly, “What the hell did you think you were doing?!”  
Then his towering anger got the better of him and his did something he rarely ever resorted to. He shouted and used obscenities and that was only because at that precise moment he couldn’t separate Jean-Luc, Beverly’s husband, from Captain Picard, her CO.  
“Who the fuck is the captain of this fucking ship!”  
Beverly daren’t say anything...not yet. Jean-Luc turned his head slightly to one side, closed his eyes and tried to release his tightly fisted hands. Gradually he regained control, but when he spoke his tone was cold. Beverly’s heart clenched.  
“Was it worth it? Did you manage to do anything useful? Were you able to help your patients?”  
Her eyes still riveted on his chest, Beverly voice was soft. “I’m not sure. Until I analyse the information and samples I’ve gathered and compared them with what the aliens have supplied, I can’t give you an answer.”  
She could hear his breathing; he was still striving to keep calm.   
“I find it hard to understand how a senior officer of your standing and experience could so blatantly ignore the chain of command and put in jeopardy a mission that may have far-reaching consequences for the Federation. Not only have you deliberately and flagrantly undermined my authority, you manipulated a fellow officer in carrying out your foolish and unwarranted actions.”  
In the cold, hideous silence that followed, Beverly wanted to cry, but she stood her ground, standing ram-rod straight her eyes fixed on Jean-Luc’s chest, accepting without protest his harsh admonishment.  
“I am putting you on report for your behaviour and actions, Doctor. Consider yourself confined to the ship and you are expressly forbidden to instigate any contact with the aliens. Is that clear?”  
“Yes, sir. But...if they contact me?”  
“Then you are to let me know immediately! I will not tolerate any further breaches of discipline on my ship!”  
“Yes, sir!”  
He turned and stepped towards the door, saying brusquely, “Computer, unlock office door.”  
Just as he was about to leave he half-turned and said quietly, hurt, anger and sorrow clear in his voice.  
“This is far from over, Beverly.”  
By the use of her name, she knew he had just spoken as her husband and she knew it was going to take some time to heal what she had done to him...and to Will.  
She sat heavily in her chair, propped her elbows on the table and supported her head on her splayed fingertips. The knowledge of what she’d done combined with what she knew about the existence of Jean-Luc’s brother and his desperate need to meet Jean-Luc was almost too much to bear. But she had a job to do and somehow she had to find a way to put aside all her concerns and worry and apply herself to her work. Her relationship with her husband was going to have to find its own way in the interim.  
As she rose to return to her tricorder, she did her best not to think about the coming days.

 

The one had learned over the years to accept her mate was occasionally hard to understand. Not literally, but abstractly. She was accustomed to his behaviour, which by-and-large was stable and unruffled, he was naturally kind, affectionate and gentle but since the visit from the human healer he had been highly agitated and distressed; something she’d not seen before, not even over their children’s condition. Both she and her one had always thought the healers would cure them, so even though it was distressing, their hopes were always high. At first she’d been deeply alarmed, fearing her one had been told something terrible about their children by the human healer and she had asked him about it, but he’d assured her that nothing had changed and while that in itself was bad, it didn’t explain why her one was so upset.  
Confused and very worried, she did something she’d never done before. She summoned a healer. Not for herself, but to consult about her one. Strictly speaking, an unacceptable request.  
The two beings met in an area of the large building that comprised her home after having made sure the conscience was occupied elsewhere.  
The room’s temperature was decreased markedly, making it comfortable for the two beings. The healer waited patiently while the conscience’s one paced, her hands constantly moving, but not yet forming words. Eventually she sat with the healer and bowed her head. Raising her hands, she began to communicate.  
“I summoned you but you are not here because of any concern pertaining to me.”  
“I see.”   
“It is my one who has given me cause for great worry.”  
“You are aware it is unacceptable for me to talk about the conscience?”  
“Yes, but his behaviour since the human visited has deteriorated and he has become unlike the person I have always known. He is deeply troubled by something and it does not seem to concern the situation about our children.”  
There was a long silence during which the female watched the healer’s hands. He tilted his head and the already brightly lit room became vividly brilliant as his radiance grew.  
“In your opinion, is his ability to serve compromised?”  
“I do not know. Such things are beyond my understanding.” Her fingers stilled momentarily, then again began their minuscule movements. “My one knows what and who he is. He has always understood what he is required to do...what he was chosen to do. I know him, he is committed to our world...his world...and I doubt he would cast aside all that he is, but since the human came, something has happened. Perhaps you might speak with him?”  
“It would be inappropriate for me to intrude on the thoughts of the conscience, unless he summoned me for a medical matter.” His fingers stilled, then once again began to move. “Perhaps...”  
He seemed to think deeply, obviously very disturbed.  
“Perhaps, under these...extraordinary...circumstances, and given the people must have a conscience who is devoted solely to his purpose, without distraction, I might be able to let his most trusted adviser know that he may wish to...discuss...what is troubling him?”  
The one’s fingers began to move.  
“What is the law?”  
“That is the cause of my concern. It is not actually allowed for an adviser to approach the conscience over anything personal. If such a meeting is required, then it must be requested by the conscience, not the other way around. But this entire situation is without precedent. I doubt there is a law to cover this.”  
Again he took time to think.  
“I will do what I can, but I will have to be...oblique...in making my concerns known.”  
Offering their hands in the traditional manner, both beings gently touched each other’s fingertips and their bodies glowed brightly. Once the healer had left, the female raised the heat to its usual setting and reactivated the cooling unit incorporated in her clothing. She would go to her one and offer what comfort she could.

 

Feeling a restlessness he’d not experienced in many years, the conscience paced aimlessly around what he thought of as his ‘long room.’ It gave the best view of the dark frozen land outside. He knew he should be with his children and that a petition from his people was waiting for his decision, but he found he simply couldn’t concentrate.   
Again and again his thoughts went back to all Beverly had revealed. His feet took him to the long, clear wall and he leaned forward to rest his brow on the cool material. So much was going on inside his head he felt as if it must surely burst. The brightening of the room heralded the entrance of his one and when she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder he sighed.   
He reached up and tenderly took her hand, lowering them both until, by their sides; he released her so the backs of their hands could touch. They stood side-by-side in silence, each staring out into the windswept, icy wasteland.  
When he spoke his voice was very deep and soft.  
“I am so sorry, my beloved one.”  
Not sure what he was apologising for, fear surged in the female, making her glow vividly. He turned his head, his eyes tightly closed. When he sensed the glow had diminished he sighed and opened his eyes to look at his sleeve, knowing she must have communicated something.  
“Can you not tell me what troubles you, my one?”

“No.” He said sadly. “But not because I wish to keep anything from you. I simply cannot find the words to express how I feel.”  
“Our children?”  
“No change, my one.”  
“Then if your distress is not about our children then it must be something to do with the human who came. What did she do that has upset you so?”  
With a curt gesture of his hand, the conscience moved away from the clear wall and stalked across the room. “She did nothing!” He all but shouted.  
He then bowed his head and placed both hands on his scalp.  
“Please, I wish to be alone, my one.”  
He didn’t bother to read his screen, he didn’t even watch as his one left. He returned to the wall and stared out sightlessly, but after a moment or two, his eyes drifted upwards, until he was gazing at the stars.  
“You are up there, Jean-Luc Picard. Beverly says we are identical. Are we? Who are you, Jean-Luc? What has your life been like? The stars...what are they like? How does it feel to travel through them? Your parents...our parents...what were they like? Did they love you as my family loved me?”  
He sighed and shook his head, his hand rising to rub his fingers over his lower lip.  
“There is so much I want...no, need to know! Am I the conscience? Yes. Was I chosen? Yes. Am I satisfied in what I do for my people? Yes! Then why? Why do I now feel so...discontented!”  
The sudden brightening of the room let him know one of his people had entered and he was fairly sure it would be his most trusted adviser. He didn’t even turn.  
“Yes?”  
The being was in a very awkward position. Although the micro laser could pick up his gestures while the conscience faced away from him, protocol demanded that he address the conscience face to face. The man glanced at his sleeve and, seeing no text, sighed at the inevitability of the situation and turned, repeating curtly,  
“Yes?”  
“You are troubled.”  
The man’s eyes darkened and his mouth opened.  
“It is not your place to make such a statement.”  
“That is true, but, forgive me, you serve the people and I serve you. Your well being is my concern.”  
The conscience had known this being for a long time. Known him and trusted him. Although he’d never asked, the man was fairly certain the being was about his age. They had come together when he had taken his place as his people’s conscience at age eighteen. The being had been a companion as well as an adviser, only stepping back slightly when the man had decided to accept his one. The being was even present at the birth of the man’s children.  
To have breached protocol such as he had, only showed just how worried the being was and in the face of such loyalty and friendship, the man relented.  
“It is I who should ask forgiveness. Please, I welcome your presence, as always.”  
Inclining his head, the conscience invited his adviser to sit with him.  
“It is true. I am deeply troubled.”  
“The human healer. Did she find she cannot heal your children?”  
A sad smile appeared and the man shook his head. “No.” He sighed. “But what she told me has proved to be just as distressing.”  
The being’s glow dimmed and he tilted his head.  
“Can you tell me?”  
“How many times have I stared at your face and seen nothing?” The man wondered silently. “Do you even have eyes? Are you looking at me, seeing me as I see you?” He sighed again. “I so want to see your reactions to my questions, but will you answer them? If I could see your eyes, would I be able to tell if you were lying to me?” The dark thoughts roiled around in his head.  
Unable to sit any longer, he rose and began to pace again. The being remained seated and waited patiently, but with deep concern.  
“I am from Earth.”  
“Yes.”  
“Do you know anything about my family?”  
There was silence and the being’s hands stayed still.  
“I’m asking about my human family.”  
“We did no research of the...family...only an investigation of the human female who was found to conform to our needs.”  
The man stopped pacing and glared at his adviser. “That ‘human female’ was my mother!”  
“You have a family of your people. You had a mother and a father and three siblings. Why do you now...?”  
The man hissed, “My parents are dead!” He pointed at the clear wall, his face clouding in anger. “They are out in the great floe! And since I took my position as the conscience, I have never seen my siblings again!”  
He spun so quickly, his braid whipped around to slap across his midriff. Walking stiffly to the clear wall, the man glared up at the stars. He resisted looking at his sleeve until he felt the presence of his friend behind him. When he did finally look at his sleeve he growled in anger.  
“What has she said to you?”  
He turned then, his dark eyes blazing. “I have a brother! A human brother....an ‘identical twin’!” With his fierce gaze locked on the being’s glowing head, the man savagely pointed up at the sky. “My brother is on that ship! He is the captain! His name is Jean-Luc Picard! I am a Picard!”  
The being lowered his head, his fingers gesturing so rapidly the micro laser had difficulty identifying all the movements. The resulting translation was fragmentary.  
“Unprecedented. Council. Impossible. Must...cannot! You...”  
With a series of violent, sharp motions, the man stripped off his tunic.   
“No! You will not refer to me as ‘you’! I am Picard!”  
He abruptly left the room and the being stood in shock, trying to work out what to do. The arrival ten minutes later of another adviser only made matters worse. The conscience had exited the building as was seen running out on the ice. Fortunately, he was adequately clothed, provided he didn’t stay out too long.  
There was only one thing the being could think to do. He had to access the records of the purveyors. Perhaps somewhere in their records he might find something to ease the conscience’s mind. In the meantime, he would talk to the council of healers. If what the conscience had said was true, the ramifications were dire. No conscience had ever been released from his obligation. Since finding a way to bring first the very young, then infants, then, finally the developing embryos, none had ever wanted to be released. The situation had never arisen.   
The conscience was in his seventy-first year. Far too early to consider sending the purveyors for a new conscience, besides it would take years to gestate, educate and prepare a new conscience. The process wasn’t scheduled to begin for at least another twenty years.  
And the people needed their conscience at the present time. With the advent of the introduction of the Federation ships the people had many questions, matters of law and civil calm were at stake and it was the conscience’s purpose to make the decisions to assist his people. If he decided to relinquish his role, what then? Under normal circumstances, the artificial intelligence would suffice, but it was confined to adjudicate on matters of law only, not to see to the civic concerns of the people. Their collective unease needed the guidance of their conscience.  
No, it was unacceptable. The conscience had to serve. There was no alternative. He had been chosen.

 

Despite the thick, insulated clothing and the mask the man wore over his face, he felt his cheeks, chin and the tip of his nose begin to burn. It had been so long since he’d experienced these sensations he sighed with nostalgic reminiscence, recalling a time long ago, a time when nothing bothered him but his next lesson. Even after he’d taken his one he still ventured out onto the ice. Every so often his people would present him with a petition that required deep thought. He loved his one, but in those earlier years he was still restless and found the solitude and unforgiving, dim emptiness of the ice oddly comforting. And it had always allowed him to think.  
That he should retreat there now was not surprising. He was searching for something, something intangible, a state of mind, a state of being he had abandoned long ago. He ran and ran until his lungs struggled in the freezing air, his breath, although processed, still escaped in thin wisps of condensed air to be torn away by the howling wind.   
He bent, gloved hands on his padded thighs, trying to regulate his ragged breathing. All his life his personal healers had made sure his body was kept in premium condition, he had never given any thought to his age or that perhaps his body may one day suffer the ravages of time. Such things didn’t happen on his world. When people reached the conclusion, it was the cascading death of the brain cells, not the failure of the body that brought about their demise.  
He knew he had no essence to contribute to his people after his death, he did not glow, but he had always been content in the knowledge that his remains would join those of his people in the great floe. That was until now. Having regained control over his respiration, he straightened and lifted his head, staring through his faceplate at the perpetually dark sky. His world was far from the system’s star, the difference between ‘day’ and ‘night’ only recognised as variations of degrees of darkness. He was unaware he had tightly fisted his hands until they rose to his head. As he continued to stare upwards, his hands opened and he splayed his fingers, extending his arms to their fullest. His voice, though shouted was almost completely muffled by his mask. In any case, there was no one to hear.  
“I am here, Jean-Luc! Please...please...hear me!”

In the atmosphere inside his faceplate, his tears emerged as a gel.

When he had not returned in five hours, his one summoned the man’s trusted adviser.  
“Do you think he will need us when he returns?”  
The male tilted his head, his glowing body pulsating. “I do not know. When he was younger he would return calm, but now...? He is deeply troubled. I cannot say if he will find the peace of mind he seeks.”  
“Then we have no option but to wait and see.”  
“Yes.”  
“You will wait with me?”  
“Yes.”  
Together the two beings went to the long room and sat, each staring out into the dim dark depths of the frozen land.

 

Although engrossed in her work, Beverly knew better than to overstay her shift in sick bay and made sure she left on time.  
Inside their quarters, though she was alone, somehow Jean-Luc’s anger, hurt and disappointment seemed to permeate the atmosphere. Shaking her head and muttering softly, Beverly entered the bedroom, stripping off her uniform.  
“Guilt. That’s all it is, Beverly, just your guilt.”  
Yet the oppressive pall still hung, almost, but not quite tangible.  
“Oh, okay.” Beverly growled, entering the shower stall. “Yes, I deserve it.”  
She didn’t hear his entry, it wasn’t until she entered the living area that she realised he was home. A tumbler of green liquid sat on the arm of his chair, a PADD resting on the thigh of his crossed legs. He glanced up, but his expression was closed, his eyes dark and glittering. He said nothing. Unable to find an acceptable way to start any kind of conversation, Beverly too remained silent.  
In the highly charged, palpable tension, they eventually ate a silent meal and sometime later went to bed. For the first since they’d become intimate they didn’t spoon, but lay back-to-back and although the distance between their bodies was mere centimetres, it might as well have been light years.

 

On the bridge, the night watch was disturbed by the tactical officer frowning down at his console and saying,  
“Sir? We’re detecting another energy burst from the anomaly.”  
Lt. Simon James rose from the command chair and joined the young Trill Ensign and frowned.   
“Did we catch it? Has it been recorded?”  
“Yes, sir.”  
“Log it and route it to the computer’s current analysis.”  
“Aye, sir.”  
The lieutenant. began to move away but paused as the ensign said cautiously, “Sir? Shouldn’t we inform the Captain?”  
This was one of those situations where initiative had to take precedence. A decision was needed and the lieutenant made it.  
“No. Until we have something to tell him, I don’t see the point.”  
He took three steps, then paused again, looking back at the junior officer, uncertainty on his face.  
“Do you?”  
The ensign. gave a panicked look and shrugged. “I don’t know, sir, it’s not my place to say.”  
Giving the man a sour look, the lieutenant thought sourly, “Well thank you very much! I’m sure I can count on you later when the captain decides to flay me if I’ve fucked up.”  
Retaking his seat in the command chair, the lieutenant stared morosely at the planet below. Customarily the forward viewscreen was deactivated unless required, but he’d always found the night shift a little unsettling, especially when he was rostered to be the officer of the watch on the bridge and he found being able to see outside had a calming effect. Even though his captain was off duty and as far as he knew, in his quarters, the man’s personality...his presence remained and left an indelible undertone of expectation that could not be ignored.  
“God,” he sighed to himself. “I hope I’ve done the right thing.”  
He had all night to think about it.

 

Fifteen hours after he’d fled, the conscience returned. Frost bitten and exhausted, he was immediately seen by his healers. He’d never suffered frostbite before. In the past, if he’d planned to stay out a long time, he took adequate precautions, but he’d left in such haste and with no real idea what is was he intended, the damage was inevitable. Fortunately, it was easily healed and a once again whole, the conscience met with his one in the sleeping room. She had waited until the adviser had suggested she rest. Unwilling but acceding to his undeniable logic, that her one may need her and she would herself need to be rested to be at her best for him, she had finally, but reluctantly retired.   
His entry into the room woke her and she sat up, the light cover slipping down, exposing her naked body. The resultant vivid glow made the man cover his eyes with his hands and say roughly, “Please!”  
Quickly gathering the covers, the female wrapped the material around her and the light dimmed. The man lowered his hand and sat heavily on the side of the bed, his head bowed, elbows on his knees, his hands dangling between his thighs. She didn’t know what to do. He was bare-chested, only clad in trousers. He didn’t even have feet coverings on, so she was unable to communicate, other than by touch, but he seemed so tense, she correctly assumed he would not welcome any physical contact.  
They sat in the uncomfortable silence each not knowing what to do or say. They stayed that way for hours until the man suddenly rose stiffly and walked out.  
Confused and deeply worried, the female left the bed; cleansed her body and dressed. She had to see her children. She had hoped they would go together, but she doubted that as going to happen. As she walked through the building she could hear her one discussing the latest petition from the people, but by the tone of his voice, so familiar to her, she could tell he was not really paying attention.

 

Throughout their morning preparations of showering and dressing, the ugly silence remained. Neither had any appetite, but breakfast was such a ritual, they went through the motions anyway. It was over coffee that Beverly finally reached the end of her tenuous patience.  
Placing her cup carefully on the tabletop in front of her, she took time to align the handle before saying softly,  
“I really am sorry, Jean-Luc. But you must know...”  
His tone was clipped and cold, cutting her off.  
“What I know, doctor, is that you have, by your own deliberate actions, damaged me both personally and professionally and quite frankly, I find it utterly unforgivable.”  
Keeping her gaze fixed on the cup, Beverly traced its rim with her fingers, hoping he wouldn’t see the pain his words had caused. Still she had to keep trying, somehow trying to find a way to heal the rift...to make him see what she’d done was necessary without revealing what she knew.  
“Jean-Luc...” she said quietly, “It’s not the first time I’ve...”  
Again he cut her off.  
“Oh yes, I’m well aware of your penchant for flouting authority, God knows, there’re enough incidents noted in your record to stand testament to that! And of course, you’ve disobeyed me before, but Beverly...” he lowered his head and shook it. “the stakes have never been so high! What possessed you? What possible motive could you have had to not only go behind my back but to lie to Will too?”  
Raising her eyes, she looked at his for the first time since they’d sat down for breakfast. She almost winced at the pain and hurt within them.  
“Okay, you’re right; I do have a reputation for being a loose cannon. But in all those notes on my file, all those reprimands I’ve received, can you honestly say that any of them weren’t gained by me simply trying to do my job?”  
Although his face remained unreadable, his eyes sharpened.  
“Are you trying to mitigate your actions by putting your position as a doctor above that of the chain of command? Above my authority as your captain? Beverly, you know I don’t wield my authority, I’ve always found people do their jobs best if given firm but fair leadership and encouragement. But...there is a standard I expect, not an unfair one, not an unreachable or unsustainable one, but one I feel necessary for the smooth running of my ship and that means everyone must abide by it. Even you.” He sighed and rubbed his brow tiredly. Neither of them had got much sleep. “I do understand your need to want to put the welfare of your patients above those guidelines, those standards I have set, but like our disagreements over the Prime Directive, ultimately you must acceded to my authority. Whether you like it or not...and despite our personal relationship, there is no alternative.”  
The silence that followed was uncomfortable, but bearable. Beverly had expected much of what her husband had said and knew he was right. But so was she. The trouble was she had no way to put her case. She gave it some thought and decided he deserved something at least. Taking a deep breath, she again directed her eyes to her cup, her fingers lightly following the rim once more. She kept her voice soft and steady.  
“Jean-Luc, I had been doing some pretty intensive studies on the data the aliens supplied, making comparisons, running tests and simulations and I came across something that at first I simply refused to believe, but as each test, each simulation kept coming back with the same result, I had only one option. I had to get down to the planet and scan the patients myself and to do that I had to speak with the aliens.”  
Jean-Luc opened his mouth to speak, but Beverly lifted her hand from the cup and trained her eyes on him, effectively silencing him.  
“You’re right, or course, there’s a hell of a lot at stake, but we see it differently, you and I. Your concern is what this mission may mean for the Federation. That’s big, no doubt. Me? My only concern is my patients. I went behind your back because I feared if you knew what I wanted to speak to the aliens about, you’d refuse. So yes, I betrayed you. I betrayed your authority as my captain and I betrayed you as my husband.” She smiled sadly. “And the real kicker is...I can’t tell you why.”  
He tried to keep his derision out of his voice when he said quietly, “Patient confidentiality.”  
Beverly heard his tone anyway and shrugged. “You may think I’m using a tried-and-true method of getting out of trouble by quoting something you can’t circumvent, something even you have to admit supersedes your authority, but it’s the truth, Jean-Luc.” She shook her head and let out a soft snort. “And you may not believe it, but your concerns and mine might just coincide.”  
Propping one elbow on the tabletop and tilting his head, Jean-Luc used his forefinger and thumb to cover his lips while watching as he swirled the remains of his coffee round and round in his cup with his free hand.  
When he’d said nothing for a few minutes, Beverly decided to take the chance of doing some digging. Not an opportune time, for certain, but time was not something she had in abundance.  
“Jean-Luc...” she said quietly. “what do you remember of your experience with Shalaft’s Syndrome?”  
His hand gently gyrating the cup froze and his eyes, now sharp and wary speared right into her. He considered why she would ask such a non sequitur, but despite their current difficulties, he knew her well enough to know she must have a valid reason.  
“Well...” he sighed, lifting his head and frowning. “I was very young, around four and a half. I recall a lot of pain...excruciating at times...I was afraid, actually I was terrified.”  
Beverly’s gaze sharpened. “Terrified? Why terrified, Jean-Luc?”  
He pulled down the corners of his mouth and shrugged. “I...um...I thought I was going to die. Foolish, I know, I mean children of that age have little concept of death, I can only surmise that I equated the pain with something very bad and the only word I could think of at the time to describe it was...death.”  
She knew there was more and waited patiently. She was rewarded when his gaze dropped to the table and he began to push a few crumbs around his plate. When he spoke his voice was very soft, almost a whisper. “And then there was father.”  
“What did he do?”  
“Oh, nothing much, nothing bad, but Robert had already gone through what I was experiencing and father treated me as if I was at fault somehow. It was not overt, he never said or did anything, in fact he was very loving and supportive, but somehow I felt a tacit disapproval, as if he expected me to not exhibit the condition, as if by succumbing to it, I had somehow let him down.”  
With great tenderness, Beverly asked, “Do you think that was the start of his disdain for you? That somehow, by appearing weak in his eyes that later, when you showed not only little interest in the vineyard, but expressed your desire to join Starfleet, that he just embellished his already jaundiced view of you?”  
Jean-Luc hitched his head to one side and sighed. “Perhaps, but Robert had had it, indeed so had father.”  
“Yes, but they both devoted themselves to the family tradition. From the outset, Robert showed your father that he was just what your father wanted. You, on the other hand, did not.” Sitting back, Beverly idly swept the crumbs from her lap. “You know...he might have harboured the hope, maybe even an expectation, that you might not get it. How much did he know about it? Did he know for instance that he carried the defective gene and that he’d got it from his father? And that the male Picards had carried it for a very, very long time?”  
Jean-Luc’s expression soured. “He would’ve been aware of it...how could he not be? But as for researching it? I doubt it. And even if there had been a way to identify and remove the defective gene, he would never have allowed it. That would’ve been interfering in the natural way of things! No,” Jean-Luc shook his head. “I seriously doubt he knew all that much about it.”  
Leaning forward, Beverly folded her forearms on the table. “So the doctors who treated you, they didn’t...?”  
His tone was brusque as he said sharply, “There were no doctors, Beverly. None were summoned. My parents knew from their experience with Robert and from what my father had told my mother about his experience with it, that given time it would pass. All they had to do was provide an environment that was as quiet as possible for me...and wait.”  
“Jesus, Jean-Luc.” Beverly said softly. “It’s no wonder you were terrified.”  
He rose from his seat abruptly and tossed his napkin down. “Yes, well it was a long time ago.”  
The captain persona settled on him like a cloak. “We both have work to do. I’ll...um...I’ll see you later.”  
Just as he walking past his wife a thought popped into his head, halting him. Beverly looked up expectedly, hoping to see some kind of sign to show he was coming around, but as she watched, his face hardened and her stomach clenched. He looked down at her and said quietly,  
“Beverly, we’ve discussed this. It’s sad, it’s tragic, but you have to come to terms with the fact we can’t have children. Let it go, Beverly...please...for both our sakes, just leave it alone.”  
Minutes after he’d left, Beverly sat at the table trying desperately to remain in control. The irony was exquisite and dreadfully painful.  
Slowly she stood and looked at the table, strewn with the breakfast remains. Unable to bring herself to clear it all away, she simply left, her single thought repeating itself over and over again.  
“If only you knew, Jean-Luc, if only you knew.”


End file.
